


Moira's Curse

by Natalie L (nat1228)



Series: Moira Series [3]
Category: The Sentinel
Genre: AU, Alternate Universes, Angst, Drama, M/M, Other: See Story Notes, Series, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 10:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 33,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/797378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nat1228/pseuds/Natalie%20L
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A violent confrontation in the streets of Cascade leads to Blair's psychic powers being revealed. In the aftermath, he is sent to the Guide Training Facility where he is humiliated and abused by the sentinel assigned to retrain him. Jim, recovering from a near-fatal wound, is unable to come to Blair's rescue until the damage has been done. Sentinel and Guide must now heal each other, using their bond of love. Alex Barnes makes a special guest appearance.<br/></p>
            </blockquote>





	Moira's Curse

## Moira's Curse

#### by Natalie L

Author's website: <http://www.squidge.org/~nat1228/jagjungle.htm>  
Pet Fly and Paramount own the copyright to The Sentinel and its characters. This piece of fan fiction was written solely for the love of the characters and to share freely with other fans. No profit is being made from the posting of this story.  
  
I would like to thank Lyn, Mary, and Montserrat for their fine betas, and the ladies at DE Press for their support and encouragement.  
  
This is an AU where sentinels and guides are known to exist. I spoke with Susan Foster (author of the popular "GDP" series) before writing this tale, as I knew that some of the conventions and concepts I wanted to use were very similar to themes she has created for her series. She kindly consented to let me use what I needed to tell this story. While there may be some similarities, this story is *not* a spin-off of the GDP universe, but is an AU of my own creation. This story is slash.  
PET scan: Positron Emission Tomography - See http://www.hhmi.org/senses/e110.html for how this is used to monitor the brain's activity as the senses are being used.  
  
This story is a sequel to: http://Moira's Blessing

* * *

Shots rang out and Sentinel Detective James Ellison collapsed, leaving his guide to face the three assailants alone. Blair stood, frozen in shock for a fraction of a second, looking at the red stain growing on Jim's chest. Then, fear and anger welling up inside, he looked up at the men who had attacked his sentinel. Eyes flashing, he stared down the barrels of the guns still pointed in his direction. "Damn you! Damn you to hell!" he shouted, sweeping his outstretched arm in a gesture that encompassed all three men. One by one, as though in slow motion, the men fell in an untidy heap on the cold concrete. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Simon Banks stood in the doorway to the hospital room, loath to disturb the two men inside. Blair sat next to the bed, holding his sentinel's hand, speaking softly to the man who had come to mean more to him than his own life. Jim was asleep, deeply drugged after the hours of surgery that had narrowly saved his life. 

Finally, knowing that this had to be done, Simon entered the room and walked over to where Blair sat, resting a hand on the stooped shoulder. Blair glanced up briefly, acknowledging the captain's presence, before turning his attention back to his lover. 

"How is he?" 

"No change since he came out of surgery," Blair answered softly. "The doctors tell me it's going to be an uphill battle, but he should survive." He turned to look at the captain, his eyes pleading to be understood. "I can't lose him, Simon! When he was shot, I-I... my whole world spun out of control. What would happen to me if he dies? God, I don't even want to think about it.... I love him..." 

Simon sighed. Blair's anguished words didn't make what he had to do any easier. He hated himself for it, but he hadn't been given a choice. "Blair... what happened at the scene... with those three men..." He paused; waiting to be sure he had the guide's attention. Blair tensed and gripped Jim's hand a bit more tightly. "Rumors circulated through the department, and word got out. I'm sorry. I tried to cover it up, but I couldn't." Behind him, the shadowy figures of two uniformed men appeared. "The Wardens are here, Blair... I'm so sorry --" 

Blair turned as two sets of hands replaced Simon's on his shoulders, pulling him away from his beloved sentinel. "No! Please --" he begged, as he felt the hypodermic pierce his neck to inject the psi suppressing drug. 

And then his world spun into darkness.... 

~oO0Oo~ 

He was cold. Voices buzzed around him, slowly growing louder, more distinct. 

"He's a danger to every one of us. A guide with the power to kill with his mind is too unpredictable." 

"The procedure is dangerous; he could die, or worse -- become a vegetable." 

"But you can do it?" 

"We've isolated the active empathic area of his brain. It _is_ possible, but I can't guarantee the results." 

"But the procedure _will_ lower his empathic abilities? Prevent him from being able to kill again?" 

"Electrical probes will be inserted into his brain, into the area of highest empathic activity, and an electrical current will be passed through them, deadening that section. It will definitely lower his empathic rating; I just can't predict by how much." 

"He's off the charts now. At 10-plus, he could be an E11 or an E100, we just don't know. What we _do_ know is that he possesses the ability to project that empathy with deadly results. He must be incapacitated before he harms a sentinel, or anyone involved with the guide program here at the Facility." 

"Understood, Warden Cervinski. We will proceed with the surgery." 

Blair dragged his heavy eyelids open and groaned. He tried to move, but found himself securely bound to the gurney. He was naked, and the cool air of the infirmary caused him to shiver. 

"Well, well... he finally awakes." A man in a white lab coat stepped into Blair's view. 

"Noooooooo..." moaned Blair, tossing his head back and forth. 

The doctor reached out and stilled the motion with a hand against Blair's forehead. "Easy, guide. We're here to help you." 

"Nooooo..." Blair tried again, his heart racing in his chest until he thought it might burst. 

Cervinski frowned. "He's a danger until after the surgery. Put him back to sleep." 

" _Nooooooo..._ " Blair cried out, more forcefully this time. He thrashed on the bed, trying to escape the bindings that held him firmly in place. 

"He is still under the influence of the psi suppressing drug," the doctor assured the Warden. "He presents no danger to anyone at this time." 

"Still, I'd rather he be quiet until after the surgery." Cervinski pulled a compact stun gun from his pocket and pressed it between Blair's legs, against his balls, pushing the button that released a hundred thousand volts of electricity through the helpless guide's body. Blair jerked spasmodically, the muscle contractions robbing him of his ability to scream, before he passed out, leaving the infirmary in silence once more. "Call me when you're done. As soon as he's recovered, retraining will begin." 

~oO0Oo~ 

Simon sat at Jim's bedside, dreading the hour that the Sentinel Detective would wake up, and he would have to tell Jim about his guide. The man would not take the news lightly. No one in Major Crime would deny how close this sentinel-guide team was. Over the past few months, Blair had made an impact on each and every one of them. Some of them loved him, others hated his guts, but Jim's arrest and conviction rate had soared when the ebullient guide had come into his life. And Simon knew why. This was no ordinary team. Their bond had gone beyond fucking to reconnect and into the realm of true love. You could see that love and respect reflected every day on Jim's face, as well as in the way he treated his guide, treated Blair, like an equal. 

The first day back on the job, Jim had half dragged the scrawny, naked guide into Major Crime and made his introductions. But after that, Blair began showing up in a colorful wardrobe. And the sentinel did nothing to quiet the incessant chatter of his guide. Blair bubbled with laughter and personality. He had charmed all of the women and most of the men in the department. The only ones who didn't care for his presence were the other sentinels. More than once, the disgruntled detectives had made their way to Simon's office, begging that the captain order Jim's conformation to the accepted conventions regarding the treatment of guides. Their own guides were beginning to rebel, demanding to be treated as equal partners. 

Through it all, Simon had seen the changes wrought in his taciturn detective. Jim had developed a softer side, constantly touching and petting his guide, murmuring softly into the man's ear, until a scarlet blush would begin to crawl up Blair's neck to color his face, and the detective would have to take his guide away to "bond." No, Jim was not going to take the news very well. 

The man on the bed stirred, opening pale blue eyes in the dimness of the room. "Blair?" 

Simon sighed. It was the moment of truth. "No, Jim. It's me, Simon. How are you feeling?" 

"Where's Blair?" Jim looked around frantically. "Was he hurt? Where is he?" 

"Calm down, Jim. Blair was -- is -- fine. Don't worry." 

"Where is he?" Jim repeated stubbornly. "I want my guide." 

"Jim, he... God..." Simon rubbed his brow, searching for the words. "When you were shot, Blair defended you. He -- he... aw, Jim... he killed your attackers." 

"Is he all right?" Jim twisted in bed, despite the pain it obviously caused him. 

Simon gently pushed Jim back down onto the bed. "He wasn't injured," the captain assured him. "He sat in the waiting room all through your surgery, and the doctors couldn't get him to leave your side once you were brought back to your room." 

"So where is he?" 

"Word got out about what he'd done," Simon confessed. "The Wardens came to pick him up and took him back to the Facility for retraining." 

" _NO!_ " Jim sat up and threw back the blankets, determined to retrieve his guide. "They can't do that! It was self-defense; defense of his sentinel. Anything Blair did was justified!" 

"He didn't shoot them," Simon said softly. "He killed them with the power of his mind." He gathered up the blankets and stood, pressing Jim back onto the bed and covering him. 

Too weak to struggle against the larger man, Jim continued to protest. "It doesn't matter! He was protecting me; protecting himself --" 

"I'm sorry, Jim." Simon shook his head, sincerely regretful. "But the whole idea scares the crap out of me, too. How do we know Blair can control this ability? He doesn't seem to realize what he's doing until it's too late." 

"He doesn't need to be at the Training Facility," Jim insisted. "We could work on it together. I'll talk to him. He'll listen to me." He groaned, his hand fluttering to his chest above the wound. Simon reached over and pushed the button on the morphine dispenser. Jim sighed with relief as the pain reliever hit his system. "They torture the guides at the Facility," he continued. "Oh, God... Blair! They'll treat him like an animal, Simon! You've got to do something!" 

"It's out of our hands now," Simon replied softly. "When you're well enough to return to work, your guide will be returned to you, or you can pick a new one." 

"I don't _want_ a new one, Simon. Don't you understand? Blair was more than just my guide. He -- he --" 

The captain laid a reassuring hand on his detective's shoulder. "I know; I understand, believe me. But it's the law. He had to go back to the Facility for retraining; he killed three men. It was either that, or he would incur the death penalty for his crime." 

"But he was just doing what any good partner would do..." Jim sighed, his eyelids growing heavy as the dose of morphine worked its way through his system. "He was protecting me..." His voice trailed off and his eyes closed. 

"I know, Jim. I'm sorry," Simon said softly to the sleeping man. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"The procedure is complete," the doctor informed Warden Cervinski. "We still need to run tests to determine his new psi level. It's possible that we destroyed any empathic ability with the probes." 

"That would be a shame," Cervinski commented. "Waste of a fine guide. Sentinel Travers!" 

Travers stepped forward briskly. "Yes, sir, Warden Cervinski!" 

"You will be this guide's new Training Sentinel. Take him and bond with him. If the bond can be established, we will at least know that some empathic ability remains." Cervinski glanced over at the bed where the naked guide was strapped down, staring at them all with blazing eyes. "If you cannot bond with him, he will have to be put down." 

"Sir?" The doctor looked at the Warden, concern etched across his face. "If the guide's empathic abilities are completely terminated, can't he be returned to his former life?" 

"With his knowledge of the Facility?" Cervinski scowled at the doctor. "He would be the ruin of everything we know. If he can no longer be useful as a guide, he will have to die. 

"Travers -- take him, he is yours." 

Travers stepped over to the bed where the alert guide had been watching them and listening to the discussion of his fate. He attached a leash to the leather collar around the guide's neck, and then began to release the restraints. When the guide was free, he tugged on the leash. "Come." 

"No!" 

Travers turned, surprised by the vocal resistance. Even the Warden raised an eyebrow at the outburst. "You will be quiet and come with me, Guide 427." He pulled on the leash again, but the guide stubbornly refused to move. 

"No! I won't go with you, and I won't bond with you. I am already bonded to a sentinel. Now, let me go! I need to be with him; he's injured." Blair reached up to try and unlatch the leash, and found himself suddenly restrained by several sets of hands. A ball gag was forcibly shoved into his mouth and fastened behind his head; his hands cuffed behind his back. 

"You're not going anywhere until the retraining is complete," Travers informed the guide. "You will wear the gag at all times, except during meals. If you choose to speak, your meal will be removed, the gag returned, and you will not be allowed to eat again until the next meal. This will be your first lesson. Do you understand?" Blair glared at the sentinel, his eyes blazing with hatred and rebellion. When he didn't respond, Travers jerked the leash. "Do you understand?" Blair nodded. "Good. Then we'll go back to my suite and bond. If you can't bond, there's not much use in wasting the time retraining." 

The color drained from Blair's face, and the nightmare of what had been done to him returned in a rush of terror. 

* * *

_He lay bound to the table that was slanted at a forty-five degree angle. His head was pinned within a special vise created for the delicate brain-deadening surgery. A patch of his scalp had been shaved and numbed so that the small holes for the probes could be drilled through his skull. The skin was sliced on three sides and folded back like a flap to expose the bone._

_The sound of the drill set Blair's teeth on edge, and while there was no pain, the small vibrations created by the instrument as it bit through the bone made every muscle in his body tense up. He could see the monitor that the doctor was using, and watched as the probes were inserted into his brain. The electrical current that passed between the probes caused his whole body to seize and an unwanted boner to grow in his groin._

_Doctor Weaver removed the electrical probes and stitched the flap of scalp back in place, covering the area with a gauze patch. "At least we know that the treatment didn't affect his ability to perform," he said, coming around to stroke the erection. Blair struggled in his bonds, but couldn't stop the unwanted touch._

_"No! Stop! Don't touch me. No!" Blair's voice was quavering and weak, but insistent, as he did his best to resist the gentle violation._

*The doctor just turned to grin at his patient. "And we know that speech hasn't been impaired." He walked around the table, tipping it horizontal and removing the head vise. "We still need to test for his level of psi ability, but I'd say that the operation has been a success." * 

_"When can he begin retraining?" The voice of Warden Cervinski came from somewhere out of Blair's range of vision._

_"I will return him to the infirmary, and once all the anesthetics have worn off, he will be ready to train." Weaver checked the monitors, assuring himself that everything was normal with his patient. "This type of surgery doesn't impair other functions, and the patient can return to normal activities almost immediately."_

* * *

Blair slipped off the bed and meekly followed the sentinel. He had no intention of bonding with this stranger, but if he were to survive to be with Jim again, he knew he would have to bide his time until he could figure out how to escape. He paid close attention to his surroundings as he was led through the corridors and rooms to the sleeping quarters of the live-in sentinels. Travers stopped in front of Room 144 and pushed his right thumb against a pad next to the lock. A laser scanned his print and a soft 'snick' was heard as the lock released and the door swung open. 

The room was small, but orderly. A narrow bed occupied the middle of the room, with the headboard up against the far wall. To the left of the bed was a desk/work station, and to the right was a long, low cage. The only light in the windowless room came from a fluorescent fixture in the ceiling. 

Travers pushed Blair forward, and he stumbled, landing face first on the bed. The sentinel stepped up behind the guide, pinning him to the mattress as he reached for the keys to unlock the cuffs that bound Blair's hands behind his back. 

"On the bed!" Travers ordered. "Hands and knees!" 

Blair crawled up onto the bed, prepared to endure the rape of his body, but unwilling to allow the rape of his mind. He heard the pull of a zipper as the sentinel opened his pants, pulling out his cock. Sentinels never undressed to fuck their naked guides; no sentinel except Jim. Jim, the man who loved him and who made him an equal, a partner in their lives together. _God, Jim, I pray that you're all right. Come, claim your guide, my sentinel. I'm waiting for you. Please!_

A grunt of pain escaped past the gag as the hard cock pierced his body with no preparation. The thrusts were hard and pounding, grinding into his body, pressing him down against the bed. A presence entered his mind, demanding his attention. 

/ bond with me, guide / no! / if you cannot bond, you will die / I will not bond with you! / you must bond, to prove that you can; without the bond, your life is forfeit / I belong to Jim Ellison; he is my sentinel, my bondmate / you belong to no one; you are just a number; bond with me now, guide 427; bond with me and live... / 

"Nooooooooo..." The moan could be heard despite the gag. Tears of pain, rage, and defeat tracked down Blair's cheeks. His body ached, filled with an insistent cock that would not free him until he submitted to the bond. _Forgive me, Jim. I have to live for you; for my sentinel, my love. Please understand; forgive me._ The cock pounded harder, tearing muscle and rectal wall as it strove for release. 

/ bond, guide! / I submit; yours, sentinel / MINE, guide! / 

The cock stopped its frenzied thrusting, buried to the balls as it emptied into the ravaged body. 

Travers pulled out, a triumphant smile on his face as the guide collapsed on the bed. He grabbed a wipe from the desk, cleaning himself before tucking himself away and turning to the pile of flesh that lay bleeding and only semi-conscious on his bed. 

"Up, guide!" When the guide didn't immediately respond, Travers picked up the leash and began to pull. Reluctantly, Blair pushed to his feet, teetering precariously in his weakness. The sentinel pointed to the long cage beside the bed. "Inside!" 

Blair dropped to his hands and knees on the floor and hunkered down to crawl into the guide cage. Twenty-four inches high and wide, and no more than five feet in length, the cramped quarters were lined with a thin sleeping mat. Blair lay on the mat, curling as much as the space permitted in order to fit inside as Travers closed and locked the gate at his feet. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"You shouldn't be up yet, Jim," Simon scolded as he walked into the hospital room to find his detective dressed and on his feet, leaning heavily against the IV pole he was using for support. 

Lifting his head, Jim eyed his captain. "Have to. Blair needs me," he grunted. 

"Whoa... whoa.... Hold up a minute there..." Jim's doctor walked through the door on the heels of the police captain to see his seriously injured patient out of bed and prepared to leave. "You're not going anywhere." 

"Move out of my way," Jim growled, pushing forward. "I've got no intention of letting those bastards get their hands on my guide. Blair didn't do anything wrong; he doesn't deserve to be punished for saving my life." 

"Jim, listen," insisted Doctor Crowley. "The bullet nicked your heart and embedded itself in your left lung. You were in surgery for over five hours, and we almost lost you at one point. You need to rest; give your body time to heal." 

"Blair doesn't have that kind of time," Jim informed the doctor, pushing past him to step out into the hall. "If he's at the Guide Training Facility, it means they intend to 'retrain' him, and that translates into humiliation and torture. Blair is a free man -- they can't be allowed to do that to him!" 

< ======= >

"Are you sure you're ready to go back?" Jim asked as the sentinel and guide prepared for going into work. 

Blair nodded, buttoning his shirt and tucking it into his jeans. "I don't have a problem with the PD, now that Sheffield is gone." He walked over to the table where Jim was setting out their breakfast. Pulling out his chair, he sat down and dipped his head, staring at his plate. He finally looked up and pinned Jim with a worried look. "What do you suppose is going to happen to Sheffield's guide? I heard he tried to commit suicide." 

Jim stopped chewing and swallowed, sighing before he answered the loaded question. "Once he's out of the psychiatric hospital, he'll probably be returned to the Guide Training Facility for retraining." 

"And then he'll be put back out into the Guide Market?" Blair frowned, remembering the shame and humiliation of the public marketplace. 

"I don't know," Jim said, shaking his head. "Probably." 

"Is that what would happen to me, if something ever happened to you?" 

"Oh God, Babe! Nothing is going to happen to me!" Jim reached across the table to take and squeeze his guide's hand. 

Blair shook his head. "You're a detective in Major Crime. You're exposed to dangerous situations almost every day. I'm not saying it's inevitable, but anything could happen at any time. Being a sentinel doesn't make you invulnerable, you know." 

"Yeah, I know," admitted Jim. "Believe it or not, I've actually been thinking about that very problem, and this incident with Sheffield was the pivotal point in making my decision." He got up and headed for the stairs to their bedroom. 

"Where are you going?" Blair asked, following the sentinel's progress with his eyes. 

"Be right back," Jim called over the railing. "I just have to get something." A short while later, he was back, carrying an envelope that he handed over to Blair when he reached the table. 

"What's this?" 

"Open it." Jim sat back down and folded his hands in his lap, all interest in his breakfast forgotten. 

Blair broke the seal on the envelope and pulled out a paper -- handwritten, signed, and notarized. "Oh, Jim...." 

"Read it out loud." Jim was grinning like the Cheshire cat in his excitement over the surprise. 

"'I, Jim Ellison, Sentinel Detective with the Cascade Police Department's Major Crime Unit, do hereby declare my Guide, Blair Sandburg, to be a free man with all the legal rights and obligations that go along with being a full citizen. In the event that something should happen to me, Blair will be free to make his own decisions pertaining to his future and shall NOT be obligated to another Sentinel without his full and informed agreement to such obligation.' Signed by Jim Ellison on this 3rd Day of September, 1996." Blair laid the paper on the table, and with one palm protectively over the document, he looked across at Jim. "This can't be legal." 

"But it is," Jim said, smiling at his dumbfounded guide. "I filed a copy with the city yesterday while you were busy at Rainier getting your office set up for the fall term." 

"I'm free?" Blair's voice was no more than a whisper of wonder. "You don't know how much this means. _I_ didn't understand the implications of this form of slavery until it happened to me. God, Jim, I promise to pay back every penny of the five thousand you spent to buy me at the market!" 

"You don't have to do that," Jim told him. "I didn't do this hoping to get my money back. I did it because it's the right thing to do." 

Blair's mouth hardened into a determined line. "But I won't feel completely free until I've paid you back," he informed the sentinel. "Half of my paychecks will go to you in compensation until I have the debt repaid." 

"Whatever you want, Chief. You're a free man now, and the decision is yours to make." Jim grinned back at his guide. 

< ======= >

"Jim, come back," Crowley called after his stubborn patient. "You're not going to be able to do Blair any good in your current condition." 

Simon stepped up behind the doctor. "Just let him go," he said softly. "Look at him. He isn't going to get very far." 

As the two men watched, Jim made his way to the bank of elevators near the opposite end of the hallway. He pushed the "down" call button, but as he waited for the elevator door to open, his strength ran out and he slid slowly to the floor in an unconscious heap. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Travers leaned down to unlock the door of the guide cage and rapped his training rod against the soles of Blair's feet. "Wake up, 427, it's time for breakfast. After that, we have the morning for more training." 

Blair backed out of the cramped cage and tried to stand. When his muscles protested, he found himself dragged to his feet by the frustrated sentinel. The leash was attached to the collar around his neck, and Blair found himself being led through the corridors of the Facility to the communal dining hall. 

The long tables were arranged in orderly rows, with the sentinels and their guides sitting opposite each other. Travers pulled out a chair and pushed Blair into it before unfastening and removing the gag. Blair stretched his jaw, moving it from side to side, opening and closing his mouth to work out the stiffness. 

"You will remain quiet, or your meal will be taken away and we'll go straight to the training session," Travers reminded the guide. "Three infractions of the rule, and you'll go without food for an entire day. Do you understand?" Blair nodded and waited for the sentinel to sit and begin eating before he began consuming the meager offering set before him. 

After breakfast, Travers pulled Blair to his feet and snapped on the leash. Grabbing a handful of the long hair, he pulled the guide's head back. "Open your mouth," he commanded, working the rubber ball of the gag back between Blair's teeth and fastening the strap behind his head. "Follow me." 

Blair didn't have much choice as the sentinel took up the leash and began dragging him back through the hallways. They walked across a large gymnasium and out the far door where a dirt track circled a large training field. Parked on the track was an old pickup with its engine running. 

Travers approached the pickup, locking the chain of the leash onto the towing hitch before climbing into the bed of the truck and settling down to face the guide. "We're going to start out easy," the sentinel explained. "Today will be a five-mile run, after which we'll practice using my senses. Then you'll be allowed a short rest before you're returned to the infirmary to test for your level of empathic ability." He turned to wave at the driver, who put the truck in gear and began to drive at a steady pace of ten miles per hour. 

Blair was forced to run behind the truck, trying to keep some slack in the leash so that he wouldn't be dragged and strangled. He stumbled when one bare foot came down on a small stone. Grabbing the leash with both hands, he managed to stay on his feet and keep going. 

He had barely passed the first mile mark and already breathing was becoming a problem. He could not inhale deeply enough through his nose, and the gag blocked his mouth, limiting the amount of air he could suck in past the ball. Panic began to rise in Blair's mind, and he wondered if he would survive his first training session. As breathing became more difficult, he began to claw at the restricting gag, begging the training sentinel with gestures and terrified eyes to allow him to breathe. 

"It was your own choice to be gagged," Travers shouted at him. "Now you will deal with the consequences." He waved at the driver, who accelerated to fifteen miles per hour, forcing Blair to forget the gag and struggle just to stay on his feet. 

It finally became too much for the beleaguered guide. Unable to breathe or keep up with the truck, Blair stumbled and fell to the track. His naked body was dragged for several yards before the truck came to a halt. 

Travers climbed out and stood over the still body. Finally, he stooped and removed the gag. Blair sucked in great draughts of the cool morning air, feeding his starving lungs. "Stand up!" The sentinel stood back and waited for the guide to get to his feet. Still too busy trying to catch his breath, Blair was slow to respond, pushing up on wobbling arms to look at the sentinel. Travers pulled out his training rod, a slender whip similar to a riding crop, and laid a painful welt across the guide's buttocks. "I said, stand up. Now!" 

Blair struggled to climb to his feet and face the sentinel. The front of his body was pitted with dirt, small stones, and bleeding scratches from the short drag along the ground. Travers gave him a quick examination, brushing the worst of the dirt and rocks from his body before releasing the leash from the trailer hitch. "I guess we've done all the running we're going to do for today," he sighed. "Come along. We'll go inside and practice with my senses." 

The room seemed dark after the brightness of the morning sun. Blair stood beside the sentinel, squinting into the dimness, his heart pounding in his chest. The gag had been returned to his mouth and strong fingers wrapped around his flaccid cock. 

"Now we'll see just how useful you can still be," Travers said, brushing his thumb across the head of Blair's penis. The guide shuddered, but not from arousal. He knew the contact was to help strengthen the bond between them, and that soon would come the invasion of his mind. 

Blair felt a pressure against his thoughts and was reluctant to let this man inside, but knew that his continued survival depended upon his cooperation. Carefully, he opened to Travers, allowing his empathic abilities to magnify the sentinel's senses. 

Travers' grip on his cock became painful as Blair felt himself sucked into the other man's mind. _guide my sight... yes, good_ Another squeeze. _now my hearing... my HEARING guide! yes..._ Blair struggled to keep up with the demands. When he had guided Jim, the process had been fluid and natural. Blair had seen with Jim's eyes, heard with his ears, smelled with his nose; but now he found that he couldn't make that easy connection. Each command was a mental trial to overcome. When Travers finally released him, Blair was exhausted. 

Back in Travers' sleeping quarters, Blair was barely aware of being pushed down onto the bed and roughly entered. The cock that pounded his body was nothing compared to the presence in his mind. 

/ bond with me, guide; reconnect / yours, sentinel / MINE, guide / yours / YESSSS! and don't you forget / 

He broke into a sweat as his body was filled with the hot come of the sentinel's climax. 

Hours later, Blair was awakened by the sting of the training rod against his feet. He couldn't even remember being put into the guide cage as he carefully backed out of the cramped quarters. His stomach rumbled, and he felt lightheaded as he stood, making him realize that he had missed the noon meal. 

"It's time to take you back to the infirmary," Travers informed the guide. "Now we'll see how successful your surgery was." 

Blair shuffled behind the sentinel through the halls, but hesitated at the door of the infirmary. Inside, Warden Cervinski waited with Doctor Weaver. 

"Bring him over here," Weaver said, indicating a wheeled gurney. Travers dragged the resisting guide across the room and helped the doctor to lift Blair onto the bed. Restraints were buckled around his ankles, wrists, and waist, and his head was fitted into a special vise to hold him still while he was run through the PET scanner. 

The doctor injected Blair with radioactive dye to help track the brain's activity and then scanned for a baseline before a metallic clip was attached to Blair's left earlobe. The clip had a wire running from it to a device outside the core of the machine. "You may begin," Weaver told the technician. 

Blair jerked with pain as a mild electrical current was run through the clip to his ear. The stimulation continued as another scan was taken of his brain activity. The clip was then moved to his right nipple. 

Blair bit down hard on the gag in his mouth to stifle the cry as the electricity was passed through the sensitive tissue while another scan was completed. 

Warden Cervinski watched the proceedings with interest. "What's the reason behind shocking various parts of the guide's anatomy while you're scanning?" 

Weaver looked up as he finished putting the clip on a fingertip. "The discomfort of the electrical current stimulates the subject's brain," he explained. "What we are measuring here is the guide's ability to protect himself using his empathy; and by extension, how well he can protect his sentinel." 

"I see," Cervinski said, nodding his approval. "And how is this one doing?" 

"So far, not so very well," the doctor said. "It would seem we were quite successful in lowering his psi rating." 

"And what would you estimate it to be?" 

"We need to do a few more scans," Weaver said, "but I'd guess below an E5." 

Cervinski nodded again. "Good. Proceed." 

The doctor moved the clip several more times, each time earning a greater struggle from the captive guide. "Just one more, and we'll have all the data we need," he said. He looked up at the technician. "Hand me the double lead." The tech handed the doctor a wire with two clips at the end. 

Weaver approached the bound guide and lifted his cock, attaching one of the clips to the soft sac of his scrotum. The other, larger clip encased the glans of Blair's penis. The guide began to struggle in earnest, his face turning red with the effort to cry out, to escape from the straps that held him tight. 

The doctor nodded and the PET technician turned on the electric shock. Blair's body went rigid, his eyes bulging with the agony resonating through his genitals. Weaver watched as the machine slowly mapped the last pass of the guide's head through the machine. When it was over, he detached the electrical leads and pulled the gurney out of the scanner. 

"It will take several days to get a definitive interpretation of the scans," Doctor Weaver informed the Warden. "Until then, there's no reason why the guide can't continue with his retraining exercises." 

"Very well," Cervinski agreed. "Sentinel Travers, the guide is yours." The Warden turned his back and walked out of the infirmary. 

Travers helped the doctor to unfasten the restraints holding the guide to the gurney. Snapping the leash in place, he led Blair from the infirmary and back out into the Training Facility. 

~oO0Oo~ 

After being hospitalized for five days, Jim was getting restless. He was having a hard time concentrating on Joel and Megan, who had dropped by to see how their colleague was faring. 

"Things have quieted down quite a bit since you and Blair haven't been coming in to work," Joel was saying. "O'Brien has been keeping his mouth shut, and his guide has gone back to 'proper behavior'. You really stirred up the pot with your liberal attitude towards your guide." 

"Not that that's a bad thing," Megan added. "We adore Sandy; he's quite the livewire." She grinned at the sentinel. "So, when are you two coming back?" 

Jim struggled to sit up, still experiencing pain in his chest from the wound. His hand went to his heart, covering the surgical scar. "Haven't you heard?" he growled. "Blair's been taken to the Guide Facility for retraining. I don't know when I'll be able to get him back." 

"Simon told us about the Wardens coming to take Blair away," Joel commented. "Because he killed those guys who attacked you?" 

"They think he's dangerous." Jim frowned and shook his head. "Blair can't even squash a spider. He's picks them up in a tissue and dumps them outside on some plant," he said with a shallow grin. "His empathy doesn't allow him to hurt others. What they say he did, he did to protect me. Period. He won't even stand up for himself, if it means confrontation. Hell, his first day back teaching was almost a disaster..." 

< ======= >

"Good morning," Blair greeted the class of sophomore anthropologists. "My name is Blair Sandburg and this class is 'The Sociology of the Sentinel-Guide Relationship'. This term we will be looking at the dynamic of the social structure, particularly as it pertains to the lower class -- the guides." 

"You should know," came a sneer from near the back row of seats. 

"Yeah," another voice echoed. "Where's your sentinel, _guide_?" 

"That is not relevant to this class," Blair retorted, trying to regain control of the restless crowd of students. "What is relevant, is that I'm qualified to teach and you are here to learn." 

"Take off your clothes," another student shouted. "Guides are supposed to be naked, aren't they? Let's see your dick, guide!" 

"Yeah, show us the ass your sentinel fucks!" 

A small group of young men, scattered throughout the lecture hall rose and began to make their way down to the front where Blair stood. 

Jim had had enough. He had come to observe Blair's first class, and to make certain that trouble like this didn't happen. He stormed his way down front, reaching his blushing and stuttering guide before the group of students. 

"Stop right there!" he ordered. "Go back to your seats." Jim watched as the students hesitated. "Now!" He waited until everyone was settled back into his or her seat before continuing. 

"My name is Jim Ellison, and I'm a Sentinel Detective with Cascade's Major Crime Unit. Doctor Sandburg is my guide, and as such is uniquely suited to be teaching this course to you bunch of morons." His comment raised some hackles and the students began to mumble. 

"Before the emergence of his empathic abilities, Doctor Sandburg was a tenured and well-respected Professor of Anthropology at this university," Jim barreled on, ignoring the unrest. "This past spring, his world was turned upside down when the Wardens came to snatch him from the steps of Hargrove Hall and take him for training as a guide." Jim looked out at the young faces in the audience. "Most empaths find out about their abilities at puberty," he continued. "But that's not the case twenty-three percent of the time. Almost one-quarter of all known empaths had their emergence in their early twenties. Think about it. Twenty-three percent. One quarter of the empathic population. You!" he said, pointing to a girl in the third row. "Or you!" pointing to a young man near the back. "Or you, or you, or you... any of you! It could happen. Today. Tomorrow. Next week. Any one of you could find yourselves naked and leashed, the property of a sentinel who only cares about what you can do for him. Any one of you could find yourself being fucked publicly for the sake of the bond. 

"Blair got lucky. I didn't want a guide any more than he wanted a sentinel. But we needed each other, and so we formed a team. Blair is my guide by choice. He has been emancipated and has regained his full standing as a citizen of this great state of Washington. Most sentinels don't give a shit about their guides. We're trying to show that there's a different way; that sentinels and guides can work together as partners, even as lovers, in an equal relationship of give and take. 

"If you'd like to see that kind of world come about, stay and learn from an expert who is uniquely qualified to teach this class. If you prefer the way it is now, then leave. Just remember, _you_ could be the next empath taken away and stripped of your life. Is that what you want to risk?" 

The class stared wide-eyed and silent at the sentinel's monologue, shocked by the realization that any one of them could become a guide at any time. It was a statistic that few had realized. 

Jim stepped down from the podium and returned to his seat. Blair straightened his tie and cleared his voice. "All right, for those of you who choose to stay, we will begin." 

< ======= >

"Sandy's not dangerous!" Megan agreed. "But surely they won't hurt him. They just can't have a guide running around without --" 

"Without a sentinel to control him?" Jim asked. 

"Oh, no, I didn't mean that!" Megan gasped. "It's just that empaths... they need special care, right? The Guide Facility has the training to care for Blair until you're able to be up and around again." 

"That's a myth perpetuated by the Wardens to make guides dependent on their sentinels -- or to make people _believe_ that guides are weak and dependent," Jim told her. "Empaths are more sensitive than other people, true. If they weren't conscripted into the Guide Service, they'd make wonderful counselors or clergy. They are people who care. But they're not fragile and they're not dependent on anyone, unless they're trained to believe it." 

"Don't worry," Joel said, reaching out to lay a large hand on Jim's shoulder. "I'm sure Blair is going to be just fine. If he gets a little more training, that will just make him a better guide, right?" 

"You don't understand, Joel. They torture the guides over there. Punishment and public humiliation are used to train them. If a guide survives the full training session, he's usually broken and docile, without the will to refuse his sentinel." Jim shrugged off the reassuring hand. "I can't let that happen to Blair." 

"The doctor says you need to stay another three or four days," Megan reminded him. "You're getting your strength back, but you're not ready yet to tackle the Wardens." 

Jim reached over to press the call button. "I need to talk with Doctor Crowley," he told the nurse when she arrived. 

"I'll see what I can do," the nurse replied. "Doctor Crowley isn't on duty at the moment; is it urgent?" 

"You bet it is!" came Jim's fervent reply. "If he won't release me, I'm leaving AMA. Get him here, now!" 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair had just completed a grueling ten-mile run around the outdoor track and collapsed, breathing heavily, at the feet of his training sentinel. 

"We're not done," Travers informed his exhausted guide. "Today we're going to try something different." He reached into his pocket for the gag and placed it back into Blair's mouth, fastening it firmly behind his head. "We're going to use my senses in a real world scenario." He opened a gate in the solid wall that ringed the training facility's yard and pulled on the leash. 

Blair stepped through, to find himself on a busy Cascade street at the height of the morning rush hour. His hands immediately dropped to cover his genitals, and he tried to back through the gate into the training yard. 

"Oh, no... none of that," Travers said, pulling harder on the leash. When Blair resolutely refused to move, the sentinel shrugged and dragged him back into the yard. "Have it your own way," he said lightly. "Come with me." 

The sentinel led Blair back into the building and over to the infirmary. "I need a groin stain," he told one of the medics. 

"Got a stubborn one, eh?" a man whose nametag read 'Roth' said. "It's not unusual the first time you try to take them out in public." 

"This one has been a hard one to train, all right," Travers agreed. 

It took several orderlies to wrestle a struggling Blair onto a gurney and strap him down. Once he was immobilized, Roth produced a circular rubber shield. A foot in diameter, the piece of rubber had a one-inch hole cut into its center. Roth stretched the opening, reaching to pull the guide's penis and scrotum through. Removing his hand, the rubber snapped back to shape, constricting the genitals and making them stand out, away from the body. Roth produced a spray can and began to coat the exposed cock and balls with a neon orange dye. The rubber shield kept the dye from coloring any other part of the guide's body. 

"We just have to wait five minutes for it to dry," Roth said, "and then you're free to go." 

"How long will the color last?" Travers asked. 

"This is a new formula," Roth said with a satisfied grin. "It's a permanent coloring that won't wash off. It should fade naturally over the course of the next three or four weeks, but for the next seven to ten days, this baby will practically glow in the dark!" He stroked the dyed penis with one latex-covered finger. 

"Good. That should help my guide get over his shyness. Nobody's going to be able to miss seeing him coming now." 

The constricting rubber shield was cutting off circulation and making Blair's penis throb with pain. He bit down on the rubber ball in his mouth to keep from letting a groan escape. He couldn't let these men know how much this was hurting him. When Roth grabbed the edge of the shield to pull it off, Blair couldn't restrain the yelp of pain as his genitals were pulled and stretched before popping through the small opening. His restraints were unbuckled and he was helped to stand. Immediately, Travers was beside him, binding Blair's wrists in cuffs behind his back. As Travers and Roth said their good-byes, Blair glanced down to see his penis colored a bright day-glo orange. His attention was abruptly shifted as Travers jerked the leash, forcing Blair to follow behind him. 

They headed back out into the yard, and over to the fence. A few moments later, Blair stood naked in downtown Cascade, his genitals a blazing beacon indicating that here was a guide in training. 

Mothers shielded their young children, covering their eyes as the sentinel and guide walked past. Travers led Blair down the block and across the street to a park. "Now, guide, we're going to practice using my senses. I want you to amplify and guide each sense; we'll see how strong you are." 

Blair flinched when the sentinel grabbed his penis, making the physical contact that was necessary to form the mental bond. He chafed in the cuffs that held his hands pinned behind his back, leaving him vulnerable, but realized that the more quickly he cooperated, the sooner he would be taken back inside the compound. He closed his eyes, reaching out with his mind to connect. 

/ sentinel, hear the bird singing in the willow by the pond / I hear it / now use your eyes; let your hearing guide your sight / I see it / watch as it flies away; follow its path until even your enhanced vision can no longer see / ...it is gone / sentinel, there is a flower stand a hundred yards behind you; smell the roses; separate out each variety by its unique scent / I smell them 

It was a struggle for Blair to guide this sentinel through the use of each sense. When he worked with Jim, Blair's senses blended with his sentinel's and he could see, hear, touch, taste, and smell with Jim's senses, extending them to their ultimate limits by amplifying their combined emotions. But with Travers, Blair couldn't make that full connection and was forced to push against the sentinel's psyche in order to extend the senses slightly beyond what the man could do on his own, without the help of the empath. 

"Not bad," Travers commented after smelling the roses. "But I have my own experiments for taste and touch." 

Blair watched with wary eyes as the sentinel reached behind him to unfasten the gag and tuck it away in a pocket. Before he could comment on the unusual gesture, hard lips were pressed against his mouth and a tongue probed against his teeth for entrance. A hand tangled in his hair, pressing Blair against the sentinel. Reluctantly, he opened to the kiss, nearly gagging as Travers' tongue swept his mouth, tasting and marking him. 

His attention was focused on the unwanted public display of the kiss, so that the entrance of two fingers into his ass made Blair jerk with surprise. The fingers caressed the walls of his rectum, touching him intimately. They probed deeper, making Blair come up on his toes in an effort to halt the invasion. A wave of arousal swept his body as the fingers located his prostate and began to rhythmically stroke the small mound. His cock swelled, pressing against the sentinel's thigh. 

The kiss continued, unabated. Travers' tongue probed Blair's throat, thrusting in a pale imitation of his fingers in Blair's ass. A long moan escaped Blair's throat as the fingers continued to stroke him internally, bringing him to the brink of orgasm. 

The sentinel backed off, reaching into a pocket and pulling out a cock ring, which he slipped over the guide's weeping erection. That finished, Travers returned the gag to Blair's mouth and picked up the leash once more, leading the guide out of the park. 

Blair flushed and trembled, finding it hard to move. Naked, bound, and gagged, the guide now had a eight-inch bright orange boner pointing out in front of him as he walked. As eager as he was to be out of the public eye, he found it difficult to coordinate his feet to walk. When he stumbled, Travers was forced to shorten the leash and pull Blair up alongside him, instead of making the guide follow behind. 

It was with a great sense of relief that Blair stepped back into the Training Facility. Even though he knew a forced bonding was inevitable, it was better than the public humiliation he'd been through in the park. Travers led him back to his sleeping quarters and pushed him down on the bed. "On your back, guide," he ordered. 

Blair rolled onto his back and watched as the sentinel knelt between his bent knees and pulled his erection free from his pants. Travers lifted Blair's knees, placing them over his shoulders, and aligned his cock with the exposed anus. Blair grunted in discomfort as the cock pierced his body, thrusting into the tight opening. His hands were still bound behind his back, and the constant grinding of his body was nothing short of agonizing. Fingers wrapped around the shaft of his erect penis, pumping the cock in tandem with the internal thrusts. 

/ yours, sentinel / MINE, guide; my guide; my guide; my guide / y-yours; y-y-yours, s-sentinel / 

With the mental submission, the bonding was complete and Travers came in great, pulsing spurts of liquid fire into Blair's abused ass. His cry of triumph was echoed by a muffled cry of frustrated torment. Blair's cock wept pre-come, throbbing in the confines of the cock ring; his climax held in abeyance by the restricting device. 

A buzzer sounded, and Travers climbed off the bed, pressing the intercom button as he tucked himself back into his pants. 

_"Travers?"_

"Yes, sir," the sentinel answered the voice of Warden Cervinski. 

_"Bring Guide 427 to the infirmary. The results of his testing have come in, and we need to discuss his future."_

"Right away, sir." Travers released the intercom and turned to Blair, who still lay sprawled on the bed, semen leaking from his battered anus. "Get up. We're going to the infirmary." He hauled Blair to his feet, snapping on the leash and leading the way through the halls. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair was lifted and placed on a gurney while the Warden, the doctor, and his training sentinel discussed his fate. 

Doctor Weaver flipped through the papers on his clipboard and looked up at the Warden and the sentinel. "The results of the tests all confirm that Guide 427 is now a borderline E3. He achieved that rating by no more than five points out of one hundred above the cutoff. He is a strong E2, or a weak E3. Your choice." 

Warden Cervinski nodded, giving Blair a stern look. "Well, that settles it, I suppose." He turned to the sentinel. "What is your report, Travers?" 

"Guide 427 is extremely weak. We went on a training session to the park this morning, and what he could do with my senses was not much above what I can do without a guide's help," Travers told his superior. "Sentinel Detectives need a guide that rates at _least_ a high E5, with an E8 or E9 preferred. Anything lower could get the detective killed." 

"Then 427 cannot be returned to Ellison," Cervinski concluded. "When the detective comes back for his guide, we shall be required to offer him his pick from our trained E8s and E9s." 

"What will become of 427?" Weaver asked. "Even a weak E3 is too much empathy to simply waste by destroying the guide." 

"He might be useful for a private detective, or for someone from a less dangerous unit -- perhaps Missing Persons or Cold Cases," Cervinski mused. "But we don't have much use for him here. Send him to the Guide Market and see if he sells. Be sure that he's clearly marked as an E3." 

"Yes, sir," said Travers, gathering the leash and pulling Blair down from the gurney. "Can't say I didn't try with him, though." 

~oO0Oo~ 

The cuffs that bound his hands behind his back were unlocked, briefly, so that Blair could be bound to the display pole in the public Guide Market. 

"A ten percent commission, guaranteed, upon the sale," Travers told the dealer. "If you can sell him for five hundred or above, the commission jumps to twenty percent. Do we have a deal?" 

"It will be difficult to get so much for an E2," the dealer said, considering the possibility. 

"E3," Travers corrected. "He qualified as an E3." 

"Yes, yes," the dealer agreed. "An E3. Still, it will be difficult. At least he is attractive; that will be helpful. His sex will call attention to him," the man said, stroking Blair's leaking erection. "Many look for a good sex." 

"Then we have a deal?" 

"Yes, I will take him on commission," the dealer agreed, accepting a small down payment to cover the cost of caring for the guide until he was sold. 

A sentinel approached, eyes glued to the orange erection. He reached out to stroke the organ, brushing his thumb through the leaking pre-come to coat the glans. "This color isn't permanent, is it?" he asked the dealer. 

Travers spoke up. "This guide is fresh from the Training Facility," he explained. "The groin dye was a training tool, and will eventually fade and disappear." 

The sentinel grunted and went back to examining the guide. Using the pre-come to lube his fingers, he reached between Blair's legs to thrust his fingers up Blair's ass. The guide groaned through the gag still in his mouth, making the sentinel nod with appreciation. "How much are you asking?" 

"Seven hundred," the dealer promptly replied. 

"What's his rating?" 

"He is rated an E3," the dealer admitted softly. 

The sentinel glanced up from his examination of the guide. "You want seven hundred for an E3?" He shook his head. "I'll give you fifty." 

"He is a fine specimen otherwise," the dealer pointed out. "He is young, experienced; he has an ample sex, as you can see for yourself... He is quite beautiful -- feel the hair; it is like silk. Five hundred." 

"No, thanks." The sentinel shook his head. "Sorry. I need at least an E5. Got any of those?" 

"Over here," the dealer said, leading the sentinel to the other guides he had on display. 

Travers took one last look at the bound guide. "Well, that dealer is right about one thing," he commented to Blair. "You _are_ a looker, and you've got a great cock. Great fuck, too. I'm going to miss having you around." 

Blair watched as the training sentinel turned and left, leaving him where he had started: the Guide Market. 

It was an horrific afternoon, with sentinels coming to check out the fresh offerings, doing their invasive physical exams before turning Blair down because of his low psi rating. As the sun set and the market closed for the day, Blair breathed a sigh of relief. 

The dealer approached, unlocking the cuffs and freeing Blair from the display pole. "Come with me." He attached a leash and led Blair behind the brightly striped awning of his tent. In the small yard behind the tent sat several slaves, each with an ankle chained to a sturdy post. The dealer attached the manacle to Blair's ankle and then removed the gag. "Lie down," the dealer instructed. Blair lowered himself to the ground, wondering what came next. He had never spent a night in the market before; Jim had purchased him the first day he'd been on display. 

The dealer rubbed some petroleum jelly at the base of Blair's penis and began to slowly work the cock ring off the swollen organ. Blair groaned, scrabbling at the dealer with his hands, wanting to be left alone in his misery. "We must get this off, guide," the dealer told him, adding more of the petroleum jelly. "If we do not, there could be grave results. You have already worn it too long." 

Blair gritted his teeth and balled his fists, allowing the dealer to do what he knew must be done. A low, steady moan escaped his lips as the ring began to slide slowly off his cock. Once it was free, the dealer gently massaged the erection, his ministrations lubricated by the jelly. "Try to leave it alone," he instructed Blair as he wiped off the excess petroleum jelly with a tissue. "It will soften on its own. An orgasm now will only cause you much agony. Here..." He reached for a loaf of bread and broke off a generous portion, handing it to Blair along with a bottle of water. "Eat; regain your strength." As he got up to leave, the dealer draped Blair's shoulders with a blanket against the cool evening breeze. 

Blair bit into the stale bread, grateful for anything to fill his stomach. He hadn't eaten anything since that morning at the Training Facility, and even day old bread tasted like nectar from the gods. He finished the meager offering, emptying the bottle of water as well, and then curled up on the ground to sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Doctor Crowley stood at Jim's bedside, having just completed a brief examination. "Well," he said with a sigh. "I'd really like to see you remain here for another couple of days, but you seem strong enough to leave now, if that's your wish." 

"Damn straight!" Jim growled. "I need to get my guide back, now, before those bastards at the Training Facility have a chance to do any more damage." 

"You do understand that because of the nature of your surgery, you're going to have to take it easy for the next four to six weeks," Crowley advised. "Before you leave, I want to set up an exam at the four-week mark to determine whether or not you're capable of returning to work. Until then, there is to be no excessive exertion, physical or mental, including stress. Do you understand?" 

Jim nodded. "It'll give me time to reconnect with my guide. But if they've hurt Blair in any way --" 

"You'll help him to heal, but you must save any confrontation until after you're released to return to work." The doctor eyed his patient sternly, well aware of the sentinel's propensity to act first and consider the consequences later. 

"Just sign the paper so that I can get out of here," Jim said, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and preparing to stand. 

"Allow your friends to help you dress," the doctor suggested, "and I'll be back shortly with the release papers." As he walked through the door of Jim's room, Crowley turned back. "Do you have a ride home?" 

"I can take him home," Joel offered. 

Crowley nodded. "Good. See to it that he's comfortably settled at home before you leave." 

"That won't be a problem," Joel assured the doctor. "Will it?" he asked, turning to Jim after the doctor had left. 

Jim smiled and shook his head. "No, Joel, it won't be a problem." 

~oO0Oo~ 

It had been nearly five days since Jim had set foot inside the loft. He hated hospitals with their antiseptic smells and the constant clatter of noise that kept him awake. And yet, his apartment felt oddly vacant and lifeless, as though the presence that made the place _home_ was absent. 

Joel bustled past and into the room carrying the satchel of clothing and personal items that Jim had had with him at the hospital. "I'll take this upstairs," he said, heading across the room. "You just make yourself comfortable. Can I get you anything?" 

"No, Joel," Jim chuckled, sitting on the couch. "I'm fine. Really." 

Joel came back down the stairs and breezed past into the kitchen. "Let me check the refrigerator. You haven't been home for nearly a week; you probably need a few things." 

"Joel... I'm fine," Jim insisted, trying to halt the well-intentioned mother hen activity of his friend. "I'm not even hungry. I can call out for Chinese later, if I need it." 

"You sure there isn't anything else I can do for you?" 

"Look," Jim said with a slightly exasperated sigh. "The doctor told me to take it easy. He didn't say I had to stay bedridden, or that I couldn't get up to fix myself a little lunch." 

"If you're sure?" Joel stopped in front of the sentinel and spread his arms in supplication. "I'd be happy to run any errand --" 

"I appreciate the offer, but I really don't need anything right now," Jim explained, fighting down the urge to bodily throw Joel from the apartment. "I just need to settle in, maybe watch some TV, relax... you know." 

"What about Blair?" 

Jim pursed his lips, wondering how to answer. "I'll call the Training Facility and tell them I'm ready to have him returned. They'll probably drop him by, if I ask." 

Joel nodded, satisfied that his friend had things under control. "All right, but if you need anything..." 

"I'll call," Jim finished for his friend. He waited for the door to close behind Joel, then he dialed up his hearing to track the detective's progress down the hall to the elevator and eventually out of the building to his car that was waiting in the parking lot next to Jim's truck. 

Jim got up and walked to the balcony, watching as Joel drove away. When the car turned a corner out of his sight, Jim went to the door, grabbed his keys out of the basket, and headed straight for his Ford Ranger. 

He made a short trip of the drive over to the Guide Training Facility, storming through the front doors and straight up to the reception desk. 

"May I help you, Sentinel?" the receptionist asked, smiling sweetly. 

"My name is Jim Ellison, and my guide, Blair Sandburg, was brought here five days ago when I was injured on the job. I'm here to reclaim him," Jim said crisply, brooking no argument from the young woman at the desk. 

"Yes, sir. Just a moment, please." The receptionist made a call reporting the details of Jim's request and then nodded toward the sentinel. "If you'll please take a seat, Warden Cervinski will be out shortly to speak with you," she informed Jim. 

Jim settled in one of the plush chairs in the lounge and waited for the Warden to make his appearance. The man that eventually approached him was large -- six feet, six inches tall; taller than Captain Banks, Jim noted. He had broad shoulders and wore a uniform sporting several medals of distinction. He reached out a hand as he neared the waiting sentinel. 

"Warden Cervinski," the man introduced himself. "And you must be Sentinel Detective James Ellison." 

"Jim," Jim corrected the Warden. "Where's Blair?" 

"If you'll just follow me, please, I'll take you back into the Facility. We have many able guides in the E8 and E9 empathy range --" 

"I don't give a damn about your facility or the other guides," Jim informed Cervinski coldly. "Where's Blair?" 

"Right this way, please." Cervinski skirted the reception desk and held a door open for Jim. "I'm sure you'll find a suitable match --" 

"I've already _found_ my perfect match. _Where's Blair_?" Jim grabbed the bicep of the Warden, halting the man's progress down the corridor. 

Cervinski turned to look at the detective. "I'm sorry, Sentinel Ellison, but Guide 427 is no longer in the Facility. He was judged too great a danger to society and the surgery to lower his 'E' rating put his empathy at a capacity too low to be of use to a sentinel such as yourself." 

"Where IS he?" Jim shouted, giving the Warden a shake. 

"We have several well-trained guides," Cervinski continued as though Jim had not spoken, "with 'E' ratings of 9+. I know that you're used to working with a guide with a high empathic capacity." 

Jim shoved his way past the Warden. "If you won't tell me where Blair is, I'll find him myself!" 

"You can't go in there!" Cervinski shouted after Jim, as the sentinel made his way toward the infirmary. The Warden caught up and blocked Jim's progress. 

"Just watch me," Jim growled, striking the Warden with a well-aimed fist. 

Doctor Weaver looked up from the examination of a newly recruited guide. "What...? You shouldn't be here," he said, frowning at the enraged sentinel. 

"Where's Blair Sandburg?" 

"Who?" Weaver looked genuinely puzzled. 

"Guide 427," Jim clarified, remembering the designation Cervinski had used to refer to Blair. "What have you done with him?" 

"Guide 427 was deemed too weak an empath to train, so he was sent to the Guide Market," the doctor explained. 

"And whose fault was that?" Jim growled, lunging at the startled doctor. 

Weaver let out a shriek as the sentinel pounced, circling strong hands around the doctor's throat. Reaching out, Weaver managed to press the intercom button and make a strangled cry for help. Moments later, three Facility security guards entered and took down the attacking intruder with a stun gun. 

When the doctor had recovered his breath, he bent over the unconscious man, giving him a quick examination. "He's not breathing properly," he announced. "Get him out of here; take him to Cascade General." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"How is he?" Simon Banks stood beside Doctor Crowley as Jim was wheeled past on a gurney headed toward surgery. 

"Not good, I'm afraid," the doctor sighed. "The physical exertion and stress collapsed the lung again. I'm taking him back into surgery to inflate the lung and make sure that no additional damage was done." 

Simon shook his head. "He's not going to be a happy camper when he wakes up." 

"He's not going to wake up," Crowley explained. "At least not for a few days. I intend to keep him sedated until I'm comfortable that he's healed enough to be released again." 

"He'll just go out and do this again," Simon told the doctor. "He wants his guide back." 

"Can't someone else bring Blair back from the Training Facility?" 

"Unfortunately, only the sentinel of record can claim a guide being fostered or retrained at the Facility," Simon said. "Blair is stuck there until Jim's out of the hospital." 

"Do you suppose they really treat the guides there as badly as Jim suspects?" Having met the gentle guide who had sat so quietly at his sentinel's bedside, Crowley was concerned. 

Simon pursed his lips. "My guess is that they forced him to go naked again. That's standard procedure there. Jim, of course, thinks that's a barbaric custom. Who knows? Chances are, Blair's had to endure some humiliation, but is otherwise okay." 

"That's a relief." Crowley turned in the direction that Jim had been taken. "I'd better get to surgery." 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair was awakened as the blanket was removed and the cool morning air caressed his naked body, making him shiver. 

"It is time, guide," the dealer said, bending down to remove the manacle around Blair's ankle and attach the leash to his collar. 

Blair stood, his whole body trembling with cold in the predawn morning. Despite the bread from the night before, he found himself weak with hunger and lacking the will necessary to fight his fate. He followed behind the dealer to the front of the tent where he was shackled once again to a display pole. 

It was the beginning of the weekend, and as the sun slowly colored the eastern sky, the market began to fill with potential buyers. A female sentinel took special interest in Blair, running her fingers through the long locks of spiraled curls and tracing his face with gentle fingers. 

"You are a beauty," the sentinel purred, allowing her fingers to drift down across Blair's chest. "Just enough hair to stimulate the senses." She rubbed a thumb across a tightly pinched nipple. "Slender, not too muscular... Good. I like that." Leaning in, she sucked at the nipple before biting down hard to get a rise out of the quiet guide. 

Blair cried out through the gag, raising up on his toes and squirming in his bonds for release from the sudden torment. 

"Ah, not so into pain?" The sentinel licked the bloody nub before allowing her fingers to trace the arrow of hair to Blair's navel. "Don't worry, love, you'll get used to it." Her fingers curled around his cock, stroking the bruised organ. "Pretty color. You must be a real firecracker to deserve such a quality groin stain. I like that, too." 

The pain was still fresh; his penis not yet healed from the many hours spent in the grip of the constricting cock ring. Blair groaned as blood rushed to his groin, filling the aching organ, stretching and lengthening his penis to its fullest measure. "Ahhh... and well endowed, I see." She teased the hard cock, stroking and petting; reaching down to massage the heavy balls that hung beneath the guide's erection. "I shall enjoy fucking you, guide." She left Blair on the brink of orgasm, to speak with the dealer. 

"How much?" 

"I am asking five hundred," the dealer said, certain he would lose the sale after the sentinel found out the guide's empathy rating. 

"A bargain. I'll take him." The sentinel began to pull out her checkbook. The dealer stayed her hand. 

"I must tell you, his rating is a low E3. If you are in law enforcement, you may wish to look at some of the higher rated guides I have for sale." 

Alex Barnes scribbled her signature across the check and handed it to the dealer. "I don't give a damn about his psi rating. All I care about is a good fuck." 

Blair's heart began to beat faster as the dealer and the female sentinel approached. The woman had a feral look about her that made the guide's skin crawl. _Jim? Where are you, man? I need you. God, I need you!_ He trembled as the dealer unlocked the cuffs that held him bound to the pole and handed his leash to the sentinel. 

"I can hardly wait to get you home, lover," Alex purred as she led Blair to her car. "I'm going to fuck you so hard that your dick will fall off." The laughter that surrounded the comment was tinged with insanity. 

Once they were settled in her car, Alex rummaged in her purse, pulling out a syringe filled with a golden liquid. "Oh, don't worry, Sweetheart, this won't hurt," she said as she plunged the needle home in Blair's upper arm. She rubbed at the injection site with her thumb for a minute before reaching over to remove the gag from Blair's mouth. 

"The drug I just gave you isn't exactly legal, but it's safe," she told her new guide. "All it does is make you cooperative... and it enhances the senses, particularly touch. There's plenty more where that came from, so don't worry. We're going to have a good time together." 

Blair felt fear churning in his stomach, but the drug had left his limbs heavy and lethargic; to move, to protest, to fight this sentinel would take more energy than the doped guide could muster. 

Alex's apartment was small and seedy; a single room with a bed dominating the center. She pushed her guide inside and then dragged him over to the bed. "Lie down!" After Blair had climbed onto the bed, she pushed him onto his back, tying him spread eagle to the four bedposts. "Perfect! Now, a couple more little cocktails... *cock*tails!" She stopped to snort a laugh at her own pun. "... and we'll be ready to play." She straddled Blair's hips and leaned across the bed to the nearby nightstand. Opening the drawer, she picked through a variety of bottles, choosing the drugs she wanted to use. "A little of this," she said in a singsong voice as she pulled ten cc's of a clear liquid into a syringe. "And some of this," she added after a bit more rummaging in the drawer. "You're going to get a thrill from this one, baby." She lifted Blair's penis and rammed the needle home at the base, just above the scrotum. 

" _Unnnnghhhh!_ " Blair cried out as the needle bit into the sensitive tissue and a burning sensation spread through his groin as the drug was injected. "Go to hell," he whispered with all the energy he could muster for the curse. 

"Aw, baby, I'm not going anywhere," Alex taunted, "but you may wish that you were. Let me tell you a little bit about the drugs I just gave you." She began stroking Blair's cock. The organ, which had gone mercifully limp since the session in the market, began to swell again. "One of the drugs is meant for erectile enhancement. You can have orgasm after orgasm and still stay hard all day. That's a good thing," she added, scraping a fingernail across tip of the straining glans. Blair bucked his hips as the sensation tore through his body, amplified by the drug he'd been given earlier. "We can have sex as much as we want. We'll bond. You're going to love this, darling." She began to roll Blair's testicles between her fingers as she waited for the drug to take full effect. 

Blair's whole body tensed, pulling at the bonds that held him spread and vulnerable. " _Ahhhhhhhh!_ " His cock let loose with spurt after spurt of creamy come, coating his chest and Alex's hand. The sentinel laughed, enjoying the show; even more so when the orgasm ran its course and Blair was still rock hard. " _Ooooooohhhh, Goddddd...._ " Blair moaned, drained from the monumental orgasm, but at the same time still aroused and unable to find relief. 

"And that's not all," Alex said, wringing another groan from her captive. Blair could feel the needles of fear prickling his body. His heart rate rose and he struggled to control his breathing as a panic attack slowly began to form in his gut. "I see you already have an inkling of what the other drug can do," she said, chuckling as she let her hand drift lightly over the guide's chest, tweaking the nipple she'd bit into earlier. "It causes anxiety. I'm sorry, Babe, but I can't have you fighting me. If you fear me, you'll behave. I want this to last. It could be ever so good." 

Blair watched as the sentinel backed off the bed and stood at its foot, slowly stripping naked before climbing back to straddle his hips, lowering herself onto his rigid shaft. "Ahhhhh... yes!" she crooned as her butt came to rest against Blair's lap. "Lovely. Isn't this lovely, dear?" Still impaled on his cock, she leaned forward, capturing Blair's mouth with her lips, her tongue darting out to wipe every corner of the warm cavern. She began to suck, drawing the guide's tongue into her own mouth, finally biting down. 

Blair bucked as an inarticulate scream worked its way up his throat. His actions buried his cock even deeper, making Alex throw back her head in delight and begin riding him. She lifted her hips, drawing nearly all the way up before plunging back and grinding her pelvis into the delicate testicles. Blair's world became a wash of agony as the process continued. He longed for an orgasm, for a release from the perpetual arousal, but it would take his body time to recover and meanwhile, his new sentinel was having the time of her life. 

/ bond with me, baby... be my guide, be my lover, my sex toy / nooooooooooo / bond, guide... you need me / noooooooo / your cock is mine, guide; remember what I said / 

"It doesn't really matter," Alex said aloud. "If you refuse to bond, then we'll just have to have sex 24/7 until you give in. I have plenty of the drugs and I know how to get more if we run low." 

"Noooooo...." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"How long?" Jim opened his eyes and blinked to focus against the bright lights. "How long have I been here?" 

Doctor Crowley straightened from where he had been listening to Jim's heart and lungs with his stethoscope. "Going on four days," he answered slowly, prepared for his patient's reaction. 

" _Four days?_ How the hell...? Why?" Jim tried to sit up, but was pushed back down by the doctor. 

"There, there, Jim. You still need to rest." 

"What am I doing here?" Jim asked, only slightly more calmly. "The last thing I remember is being at the Guide Training Facility. They sent Blair to the market!" He struggled to sit up again, but Crowley held him down. 

"If you'll calm down and listen, I'll tell you what I know," the doctor began. Jim reluctantly relaxed against his pillows, willing to hear the man out. "All right, here goes. You apparently went to the Facility, found out something about Blair, and went ballistic." When Jim started to rise again, Crowley held up his hand. "They weren't very forthcoming with the details, but apparently the Warden needed to restrain you with force and you collapsed. They brought you here. 

"By the time I got to see you, your lung had collapsed again and you required additional surgery." He gave his patient a stern look. "What did I tell you about taking it easy? You were supposed to rest, Jim." 

"Not until I got my guide back!" Jim spat softly. 

"There had to be a less stressful way," the doctor suggested, cocking an eyebrow. 

Jim nodded. "I thought so, too. I figured I'd just go there and pick him up. But they'd given him a psychic lobotomy and sent him to the Guide Market!" Not one to give up easily, Jim struggled once more to sit up. "I've got to go find him!" 

"Not right now, you don't," Crowley said, pushing him back yet again. "This is why I kept you sedated for four days. It was the only way I could ensure that you'd get the rest you needed. You're not leaving here for at least another couple of days... Even if I have to sedate you again!" he threatened. "I hope that won't be necessary." 

"May I at least call Simon?" Jim asked. "He can send somebody to the market to find Blair and bring him to me." 

"If it will help, of course," Crowley agreed. "I'll come back and see you again this afternoon. Until then, make your call, and then get some more rest." 

Jim picked up the phone after the doctor had left and dialed the Cascade PD. 

_"Captain Banks."_

"Simon, it's Jim --" 

_"Well, well, so Doc Crowley decided to let you wake up, did he? How are you feeling?"_

"How do you think? Blair is still missing. Simon," Jim barreled on before the captain could interrupt. "When I was at the Facility, they told me they'd given up on retraining Blair and had sent him to the Guide Market." 

_"Aw, hell! And that's been HOW long ago now? Four days? Do you think he'd still be there?"_

"I don't know," Jim admitted, "but it's my only lead. Could you please send someone to the market to check? Simon, I have to get Blair back!" 

_"I know, I know. I'll see what I can do. Brown and Rafe are free at the moment. I can send them."_

"Thanks. God, I had no idea it was going to be this rough without him," Jim sighed. "Get back to me as soon as you can, all right? I promised the doctor I'd rest, but there's no way I can relax knowing that Blair's in that godforsaken place!" 

_"I'll get them right on it,"_ Simon promised. 

Jim hung up the phone and collapsed back on his pillows, visions of Blair naked and bound in the marketplace haunting his memories. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"I don't see him," Henri commented to his partner as they made their second round of the Guide Market. "Man, there is more naked flesh here than a Vegas strip club!" He shuddered. 

Rafe chuckled. "I would have never thought that this would bother you," he said. "Haven't I seen Penthouse and Playboy magazines under your report folders?" 

"But that's _women_ ," H protested. "These are mostly men! Besides, it's disgusting. Have you watched how the sentinels shop for their guides?" 

"Well, sex is a big part of the sentinel-guide bond," Rafe said with a shrug. "Can't say I blame the sentinels for wanting to find someone they'll enjoy being with." 

"It just sort of weirds me out, seeing it like that." Brown turned his back on the market. "Now what?" 

"Well, I suppose we go tell Jim the bad news," Rafe said, heading back toward their car. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"We spent over an hour there," Rafe explained. "There wasn't anyone who even remotely resembled Blair." 

"And we went around twice," Henri added. "Sorry, Jim, but the market was a dead end." 

Jim sighed, his hope for a reunion dashed again. "Did you ask any of the dealers? One of them might have been the one who sold him." He pushed himself to a sitting position and leaned toward the nightstand that proved to be just out of reach. "Rafe, could you grab my wallet out of the top drawer?" he asked. Once he had the wallet in hand, he flipped through the plastic credit card windows until he came to the picture he carried with him. "This was taken of Blair during our last vacation together," Jim said, handing over the snapshot. "Show that around. Maybe someone will recognize him." 

"It's worth a shot," Henri said with a shrug. "It's getting kind of late, though. Doesn't the market close soon?" 

"We'd have better luck if we went first thing in the morning," Rafe agreed. "The traffic outside right now would make us late for sure, if we tried tonight." 

"But we don't know what kind of situation Blair may be in." The urgency in Jim's voice made the two detectives hesitate in their resolve to wait. "What if someone like Sheffield has him again? Blair is used to being treated humanely. Most sentinels treat their guides like dogs." 

"Okay, okay. We'll go," Rafe decided, grabbing Brown's shoulder. "Come on, H, let's go show the picture around." 

After the two men left again, Jim tried to relax. He had just ordered his evening meal when Doctor Crowley showed up again. 

"How's it going this evening? Sorry I couldn't get by earlier." 

"Oh, hey, Doc." Jim waved at Crowley. "I'm waiting on my friends to get back with news about Blair." 

"I hope they find him for you." 

"You know that if they do, and they can't bring him here, I'll have to go myself," Jim reminded the physician. 

"And you know how I feel about that," Crowley countered. "I'd like to see you stay in the hospital another day or two, and then you're going to have to take it mighty easy for the next few weeks. I don't want another incident like the one you're recovering from now." 

"Neither do I, Doc, believe me!" Jim said fervently. "But right now, Blair is more important to me than my own health. I'll recover, but I don't know what he's been through." 

"I've seen the two of you together," the doctor said softly. "If they find Blair --" 

" _When_ they find Blair," Jim interrupted to correct. 

"When they find Blair, he'll recover too, with your help. Besides, how bad could it be?" 

Jim shook his head. "Oh, Doc, you have no idea. Believe me, you don't want to know. The world of sentinels and guides is not for the squeamish." 

"I'll take your word for it," the doctor said grimly. "But for now, why don't you get some rest? Your dinner should arrive soon. Worrying about the search for your guide isn't going to change the outcome." 

~oO0Oo~ 

Jim was just finishing up his dessert cup when Brown and Rafe returned. "Well? Any luck?" 

Brown shook his head. "We got stuck in traffic --" 

"Big accident at the intersection of Pacific and 9th," Rafe chimed in. "Police were all over it; fire and rescue, too." 

"By the time we got to the market, it was shut down tight for the day," Henri concluded. "Sorry, big guy. We'll take the picture around first thing in the morning." 

"You damn well better make sure it's first thing," Jim growled. "The Guide Market opens at dawn. I don't want to waste a single minute when Blair's life could be in danger." 

"Do you really think it's that serious?" Rafe asked. 

"I've got a bad feeling," Jim said. "It's like I never completely lost the bond with Blair. He's in trouble -- suffering somewhere. I have to find him and get him back." 

"We'll do everything in our power to find him," Brown promised. "You try to get some sleep tonight, all right?" 

"Dawn, guys," Jim called after the two detectives as they walked out of the room. "Be there at dawn." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Damn! I didn't realize how cold it was this time of the morning!" Brown said, pulling his coat around him. The Guide Market was just opening, and the dealers were beginning to display their wares. Naked men were dragged out from the tents to be tied to the display poles. It was obvious to the two detectives that these poor souls were suffering from the chilly autumn temperatures. 

"Can you picture Blair here?" Rafe said, looking around and shivering. "It's no wonder Jim is so worried about the kid." 

"Let's start asking around," Brown said, approaching a dealer. "Excuse me. We're looking for a guide who may have been for sale here within the past week." He pulled out the photo Jim had loaned him and pointed at the face smiling from the image. "Have you seen this man?" 

The dealer shook his head. "We have many go through here, but I have not seen that one." 

"Thanks." Rafe took Brown's arm and steered him toward the next tent. The detectives continued to get the same response for nearly a half hour, until they reached the end of the front row of tents. 

"Yes, I have seen him. I sold him three, no, four days ago. Nice kid; really mellow -- never fought or argued, just went to the post." The dealer studied the picture and frowned. "He should never have been here. He was sold once before." 

"That's great!" Rafe said, getting excited. "Do you have a record of the sale? We need to know who bought this guide, so that we can get him back to his rightful owner." 

"Yes, yes, I have that information here," the dealer said, beginning to rummage through his sales receipts from four days ago. "It was a woman. She came at dawn and paid full price. She didn't seem too interested that his empathy rating was only a three. Ah, here it is! Alexis Barnes." 

Brown snatched the sales receipt from the man's hand and began copying the name and address onto his notepad. "Thanks so much, brother! We really appreciate this!" 

"I am glad to help. I hope you get the boy home to his sentinel." 

Rafe and Brown quickly headed back to the car. "What do you think we should do?" Brown asked. "Should we go check out this Barnes woman, or tell Jim first?" 

"Do _you_ want to be on the receiving end of the Wrath of Ellison, if we go in without telling him about this first?" Rafe asked, eyebrows raised. 

Henri shook his head. "You have a point. Let's head for the hospital. We can check out the apartment later." 

They got to the hospital and headed directly up to Jim's room past the protesting nurse. "Visiting hours don't start until 10 a.m.," she called after them. "Gentlemen?" 

"This is important," Rafe said, shrugging off the restraining hand. "It will just take a few minutes." He pushed on past with Brown at his heels. 

Jim was awake and alert. He'd been staring out his east-facing window, watching the sunrise, but the sounds of the detectives out in the hall drew his attention to the door. "Any luck?" 

"We hit the mother lode," Brown crowed, waving the notepad. "Name and address." 

"Let's get going, then," Jim said, throwing back the blankets to reveal that he was fully clothed. 

"Not so fast," Doctor Crowley said, entering the room. "The floor nurse paged me when these two," he indicated Brown and Rafe, "ignored the visiting hours warning. I told you; I want you in that bed for another two days." 

"Do what you think you have to do, Doc," Jim said, going to the closet to get his jacket, "but I'm leaving and I'm not coming back until I have Blair with me." 

"If you leave, it's against medical advice," the doctor warned. 

"I'm well aware of that," Jim said, shouldering past the doctor. "But some things just can't wait." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Oh, you poor baby," Alex crooned, entering the dark apartment. She approached the bed, pulling a bottle out of her grocery bag. She broke the seal and unscrewed the cap. Sitting on the edge of the bed, she tipped the bottle until the contents began to run into Blair's mouth. "You need to replenish those electrolytes if we're going to keep playing," she told him. 

Weak and dehydrated, Blair eagerly swallowed as fast as he could, not caring that much of the contents splashed his face and ran down his chin to dampen his neck and shoulders. His tongue was swollen and his throat too dry to speak, his body covered with open wounds and bruising from where Alex had scratched and bitten him. 

The sentinel set the drink on the nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out the familiar syringe and the bottles of drugs as Blair watched. He struggled weakly against his bonds, as he did every morning, but it was no use. The first syringe pierced his upper arm, emptying its potion of lethargy and enhanced tactile response. The second was filled with a cocktail mixture and delivered to the base of his erect penis. Blair groaned as the needle entered his body, delivering the molten heat that kept his cock hard and his mind on the razor edge of panic. He couldn't fight it. Not anymore. He wasn't even sure he wanted to. As the anxiety built in his chest and the thrum of arousal pulsed through his cock, he wished for nothing less than the sweet release of death. 

Alex stripped quickly and lowered herself onto Blair's erection. "Ahhhh... just as sweet as the first time," she whispered, throwing her head back and letting her long, blonde hair brush against the guide's thighs. 

"G-uh -- t-t -- hel-lll...." The words were raspy and incomplete, forced past a thick tongue and dry throat. Maybe if he angered her enough, Blair thought, she'd just kill him and get it over with. Anything was better than the perpetual drug-induced anxiety and the never-ending erection from hell. Instead, laughter floated to his ears. 

"Don't you wish?" Alex bent forward, licking her way up Blair's chest until she came to the raw, infected nipples. She began to suckle, laving the small nub with her tongue. The pain was excruciating, enhanced by the drug Blair had been given. His groan of pain became a high-pitched cry as Alex bit hard, drawing blood. "Satan didn't want me, baby. He sent me back here." 

_Insane. She's insane,_ Blair's mind screamed. _Oh God, if you answer prayers, take me, please!_ His body shuddered as Alex began to raise and lower herself along the shaft of his cock, leaving bloody trails as her nails scraped from his armpits to his thighs. Unwanted and unbidden, a wave of arousal swept through Blair, culminating in a pulsing orgasm. He shot his seed deep within her, the climax not affording him any relief from the aching rigidity of his shaft. His body was on fire, and yet wasn't consumed. His eyes were dry; there was not enough water left to form tears, but he cried anyway. It was all that was left for him to do. 

With a startling suddenness, the door to the apartment was kicked open and banged against the wall. "Stop it right there!" a familiar voice rang out. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"This is the place," Brown said as he pulled the car up in front of the seedy apartment building. "Third floor, Number 313." 

"Let's go!" Jim said, ducking out of the passenger door ahead of Brown and Rafe. 

They entered the building and ran up the stairs. As they entered the hallway, Jim focused his hearing on the second door to his left. The sound of a woman softly laughing reached his ears. The muted, wet slurp of intercourse was overlaid by the anguished cries of a familiar voice. Fury enveloped the sentinel and he pulled his weapon, landing a well-placed kick to the door just below the knob. As the doorframe shattered, he entered, gun drawn. "Stop it right there!" 

The scene that met Jim's eyes was of nightmare proportions. Blair lay naked on the filthy bed, his wrists and ankles tied to the four bedposts, leaving him spread and vulnerable. His body was covered with blood and bruises; a faint stench of infection wafted across the room. A blonde woman, also naked, was mounted on Blair's rigid cock. When the door had burst open, she had grabbed a gun from the nearby nightstand and now aimed the weapon at Jim. 

"Put it down," Jim ordered, "and get off Blair." Brown and Rafe stood behind Jim, ready to back him up, but letting him handle the potentially deadly situation. 

Laughter rippled from the woman's throat. With no regard for her own nudity, she stared the opposing sentinel down. "He's my guide, now," she growled. Echoed in her voice was the roar of a wild jaguar. From the corner of his eye, Jim thought he saw the flash of a tawny, spotted coat prowling the dark recesses of the room. 

Jim's hand never wavered as he cocked the firing pin. "Put down the gun," he repeated, "and step over here." 

Alex's blue eyes flashed and she whipped around, aiming the gun at Blair's forehead. "If I can't have him --" 

The roar of Jim's pistol stopped the deranged sentinel in mid sentence. A neat hole parted the golden hair at the back of her head and exited from between her eyes. The body collapsed on top of the dazed guide, splattering him with blood. 

Jim and Rafe headed immediately to the bed while Brown pulled out his cell phone to report the incident to the Department. 

Dumping the woman's body onto the floor, Jim began untying the leather straps that bound his guide to the bed. As he worked one side, Rafe struggled with the other. Once Blair was free, Jim gathered his guide into his arms, cradling Blair's head against his shoulder. 

"Aw, baby... I'm so sorry. So sorry I couldn't get here sooner." Jim stroked the matted locks of hair as he held Blair. The foul odors of infection, blood, semen and urine assaulted his nostrils, but under it all was the warm, familiar smell of his guide, calling to him to love and protect. 

"Jim?" The muffled voice was soft and strained, but rang like music to the sentinel's ears. 

"Yeah, Sweetheart. I'm here and you're coming home with me. I'm never letting you out of my sight again." He kissed Blair's temple and rocked the precious body as though Blair were a child. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Jim sat perched on the edge of the bed in Cascade General's Guide Ward, gently stroking the hair of his sleeping lover. He looked up as the doctor walked in, carrying Blair's chart and the results of the numerous tests his guide had been subjected to. 

"Good afternoon, Sentinel Ellison," Doctor Waterston greeted Jim. "How is Blair doing since this morning?" 

"About the same," Jim said. "He's still sleeping." 

"That's good," Waterston said, nodding. "He was exhausted; he needs his rest." 

Jim shifted slightly, turning his attention to the doctor and frowning. "Why is Blair still naked? He's spent two weeks unclothed --" 

The doctor approached the bed, gently turning down the lightweight blanket and sheet covering the nude body of the guide. Blair lay curled on his side, the stiff boner of his erection still jutting out from his groin, and his nipples swollen and red. "I understand your concern, Sentinel, but it's easier to monitor his condition this way for the time being." 

"Isn't there something you can do about _that_?" Jim asked, gesturing helplessly at the swollen penis. 

"I'm afraid not," replied Waterston. "According to our test results, the drugs Blair was given were either illegal, or in the case of the erectile enhancement medication, prescription drugs given in overdose proportions. We have no antidotes for any of them. We're simply going to have to wait until they work their way out of his system naturally." 

"And how long is that going to take?" Jim asked, pulling the blanket back up to cover the abused body. 

"A few hours, perhaps a day. Right now, I'm more concerned about his general health. Blair is malnourished and severely dehydrated; his kidneys have nearly shut down. How long did you say he was with this abusive sentinel?" 

"My understanding is that he was purchased at the Guide Market roughly five days ago," Jim answered. "He was at the market for at least two days, and at the Guide Training Facility for four or five days before that." 

"Nearly two weeks.... That would certainly account for it. For guides in training at the Facility, food is a reward while lack of food is a punishment," Doctor Waterston told the sentinel. "And guides for sale at the market usually only get some bread and water once a day." 

"Is he going to be all right?" Jim asked, frowning. Blair stirred slightly and moaned, but didn't wake up. Jim turned his attention to his guide. "Shhh, Babe. It's okay; it's okay," he crooned, continuing to stroke the long hair. 

"He should recover with time, although I'll want to keep a close monitor on his kidney function for a while, and there might be some changes needed to his diet," the doctor said. "He'll need to remain hospitalized for at least a week, until we can get his strength built up and knock out the infection in his nipples." The doctor pulled the blanket down once more, this time to Blair's waist, and turned the sleeping guide onto his back. He probed gently around each swollen nub, expelling some yellow-green pus from the open wound at the base of the left nipple. 

"Unnnnnhhhh!" Blair cried out, opening unfocused blue eyes and weakly flailing his arms. 

Jim gathered Blair's hands in his and leaned down to press a kiss against the perspiring forehead. "You're going to be fine, Sweetheart. Shhh, the doctor needs to take care of you. You're safe. Nobody is going to hurt you anymore." 

"The sentinel who did this," Waterston said, waving a hand above Blair's chest, "nearly bit off the left teat. The site has become so infected that we may have to insert a shunt to drain off the discharge. I'm not certain that we can salvage the nipple --" 

"You have to, Doc," Jim insisted. "Blair's gone through enough shit! He deserves your best effort!" 

"I'll do what I can, but if it's not taken care of, the infection could endanger his life. If it's a choice between saving his life and saving the nipple, I'm opting to keep the guide alive." 

"Jiiiimmm...?" 

"I'm right here, Babe," Jim said, keeping up the gentle rhythm of stroking his guide's hair. "You're in the hospital." 

"Alex Barnes...?" 

"She's dead, Sweetheart. I killed her when she threatened you," Jim replied, punctuating his words with gentle kisses against the soft lips. 

"Huuurrrts," Blair moaned, reaching a hand beneath the covers. 

Jim reached down and pulled the hand away before Blair could touch his erection. "I know it does, but you have to leave it alone for now. I know it's difficult," he said softly, fighting against his guide's weak effort to free his hand, "but you have to let it go down by itself. You'll only make yourself more miserable if you try for relief now." 

Tears welled in Blair's eyes, but didn't spill down his cheeks, anger and frustration keeping him from showing that weakness. "Alex... she bit me, drew blood." His free hand fluttered at his chest. 

"Yeah, I know," said Jim grimly. "That's what woke you up just now. Doctor Waterston was trying to expel some of the infection from your left nipple." 

"Don't let him touch me!" Blair whimpered, squeezing Jim's hand. "Please, don't let him near me!" Jim could hear the quickening of his guide's heart at the mention of the doctor as Blair's panic began to grow. 

"It's all right," Jim assured him. "Doctor Waterston is one of the good guys. You're at Cascade General, in the Guide Ward. Blair, honey, it's the drug that Alex gave you that's making you afraid. You have to fight it; don't let her win." 

"D-Drug?" 

"Yeah. Alex pumped you full of all sorts of shit. Don't you remember?" Jim asked, resuming the stroking of his guide's hair. 

"She raped me." 

"Yeah, Babe. She did. Repeatedly. For four, almost five days. But she's dead, and she can't hurt you anymore." Jim emphasized his words with another gentle kiss. "You have to fight your way through this; give your body time to process the drugs and work them out of your system." 

"Stay with me?" 

"You bet. I'm not leaving your side." Jim looked up at the doctor. "I'd like to stay with Blair, share his bed --" 

"It's not wise to try bonding with your guide, Sentinel. He's still too weak," Waterston cautioned. 

"That wasn't my intention... yet," Jim informed him. "Until I left this morning against the advice of my doctor to go rescue Blair, I was hospitalized here recovering from a collapsed lung. I thought that perhaps I could stay here and rest. Even without penetration, the bond between a sentinel and guide is healing," Jim reminded the specialist. 

"Who was your doctor?" 

"Winston Crowley," Jim informed the physician. "I'm sure he'd recommend that I be readmitted. I just want to do my time here, with Blair." 

"I think that can be arranged," Waterston said, nodding. "Let me go find Dr. Crowley and speak with him about the situation. Meanwhile, Blair should be resting." 

"I'll see to it that he does," assured Jim. 

"All right; good. I'll come back to check on Blair later. If either of you need anything in the meantime, call for a nurse." 

"Will do," Jim agreed. Once the doctor had left the room, closing the door behind him, Jim stripped to his shorts and climbed into bed beside his guide. "Roll over, Sweetheart," he said, helping Blair to roll onto his side. Spooning up behind the younger man, Jim wrapped an arm around his waist and snuggled in close so that Blair could feel the soothing touch down the full length of his body. "Sleep now. Sleep," he whispered in his guide's ear. "I won't leave you." 

With that solemn promise, the exhausted guide dropped back into a light doze that soon deepened into a healing sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

The quiet noises in the room woke the sleeping sentinel. Jim blinked against the morning light streaming through the windows and watched as a nurse hung fresh bags of saline and glucose, and injected an antibiotic into Blair's IV line. 

"Good morning, Sentinel Ellison. Did you sleep well?" 

Jim nodded, tightening his hold around the waist of his guide. "Yes, thank you. The best I've slept since coming to the hospital; and you can call me Jim." 

The nurse smiled. "I'm Beverly," she introduced herself. "I heard that you were separated from Blair. That must have been hard on you both as a bonded pair." 

"For almost two weeks," Jim grumbled. "Worst two weeks of my life." 

Beverly nodded knowingly. She'd spent the last three years of her nursing career on the Guide Ward, and knew how strong the bond could be. "Are you hungry?" she asked. "I can get a menu for you if you'd like to order breakfast." 

"Maybe later," Jim replied, nuzzling into the fragrant curls of his guide. "Right now, just being with Blair is enough." 

"You need to eat to keep up your strength," the nurse reminded him. 

"I'm fine," Jim assured her. 

"Well, then; maybe you could help," said Beverly as she pulled the blanket off the naked guide. "I need for you to roll onto your back and bring Blair with you, so that he's lying on his back as well." 

Jim did as the nurse asked, watching as she pulled a handful of tubing and a bag from the pocket of her uniform and snapped on a pair of latex gloves. She tore open a medicated towelette and began to gently wipe Blair's penis. "What are you doing?" 

"Doctor's orders," said the nurse, as she began to thread the narrow tubing into Blair's urethra. "He needs a catheter now that he's had enough fluids to rehydrate his body." 

Blair moaned and began to stir. Jim tightened his arm around his guide's waist and turned to kiss Blair's cheek. "It's all right, Chief," he soothed. "You're going to be fine." 

"Huuuurts," Blair groaned, reaching for his cock with the hand not trapped by Jim's arm. 

"We'll be done here in just a minute," Beverly said, smiling at the newly awakened guide. "Doctor Waterston wanted you to have a catheter so that we can measure your urine output." She gently batted Blair's hand out of the way, eyeing Jim beseechingly. Jim captured the straying hand and wove his fingers between Blair's. "Because you were without sufficient fluids for so long, there's been some decrease in your kidney function," the nurse explained. "The doctor wants to make sure that everything is working properly. If not, we need to get you into treatment." She finished lacing the tubing up the bruised and aching penis. Immediately, bright yellow urine began to flow. Beverly strapped the collection bag to Blair's upper thigh and patted it approvingly. "Very good. Now you're set. Once you feel up to getting out of bed and walking around, you won't have to worry about pulling out the catheter." 

Blair struggled against Jim's hold. "It hurts," he complained. 

Beverly pursed her lips and nodded. "I know. It will continue to be a bit uncomfortable for a while, but eventually you'll get used to it and you won't even know it's there," she assured her patient. "Doctor Waterston will be in shortly." 

After the nurse left, Jim eased Blair back onto his side and snuggled up against the warmth of his guide's body. He kissed the back of Blair's neck, working his way up to an ear. His tongue darted out, tracing the sculpted contours until Blair's moans of discomfort turned to ones of pleasure. 

"We'll be out of here soon," Jim promised. "And when we are, I intend to make you mine again." 

"Already yours," Blair murmured. "Always yours." 

"I know, Babe. I know." Jim continued to kiss and caress, making his lover forget the intrusion of the catheter. 

Their impromptu lovemaking was interrupted when Doctor Waterston entered the room. "Good morning, gentlemen," he greeted the couple, clearing his throat to help get their attention. "How are you feeling this morning, Blair?" 

"I've been better," Blair grumped, turning to look at the doctor. 

Jim chuckled as he rolled onto his back. "Blair's doing fine," he informed Waterston. "He's just not happy about his current circumstances." 

"Believe me, I understand. The catheter isn't the most comfortable thing, but it's necessary until we know how well your kidneys are functioning. Of course, we'll be running other tests before we can release you, but this is a first step." Waterston walked around the bed until he was facing Blair, who had twisted in Jim's arms to see the doctor. "Now, let's take a look at that nipple." He pulled back the blanket enough to expose Blair's chest and began to poke carefully at the infected site. Blair sucked in his breath, biting his lower lip to keep from crying out. "The antibiotic appears to be helping. The build-up of pus isn't as bad as I thought it might be. What do you think about having me try to repair the damage?" 

"W-What are you going to do?" Blair asked nervously, still under the influence of his two-week ordeal. 

"Well," Waterston said, "I'd numb the area first and then manually expel as much of the infection as I could. Then, I'd stitch the nipple back into place, leaving a small shunt inside the wound to drain any new infection." He turned to Jim, knowing the sentinel had a stake in the procedure as well. "As we're talking erectile tissue here, I can't guarantee that everything will work as it should, or that Blair will have the same level of sensitivity that he had before. But I can assure you that cosmetically, at least, the area will look normal." 

"That sounds good to me," Jim agreed. "What do you think, Sweetheart?" 

"I-I sup-pose," Blair stammered, still unwilling to let anyone other than his sentinel touch him. "When are you going to do it?" 

"How about right now?" the doctor asked. "I can go and get the supplies and be back here in about five minutes." 

Jim nodded. "Sure, Doc. Thanks." As Waterston turned to leave, Jim began stroking Blair's hair and whispering in his ear. "It's all right. You don't have to be nervous. I know you went through hell with the Training Facility and Alex Barnes, but you're with me now. Everything is going to be okay. I won't let anyone hurt you ever again." 

"I know... I'm just --" Blair sighed. "I'm just so tired of people _touching_ me." 

"I understand that it's hard for an empath to allow anyone other than his sentinel to touch him," Jim agreed, "but you need to let the doctor take care of you. It won't be much longer, and then we can go home together." 

"Home... sounds wonderful." Blair managed a weak smile. "I wondered if I'd ever see it again." 

"You should never have doubted, Babe. Remember, I'll always come for you." 

"And I'll always protect you, no matter the cost," Blair whispered back. 

"You've done more than your share, and paid the price," said Jim, kissing his guide's temple. "It's my turn to protect you, now." They snuggled together until Doctor Waterston returned with his instruments. 

"All right, Blair, let's make you comfortable," Waterston said, helping to prop the guide into a semi-reclined position with his back supported by a number of pillows and the blanket covering him to his waist. The doctor then proceeded to fill a syringe with the contents of a small vial. He squirted a bit of the liquid into the air to remove any air bubbles. Blair winced and cringed, trying to pull away from the needle. "Now hold still," Waterston urged. "This will just sting a little." 

Jim tightened his grip on Blair's hand as the doctor inserted the needle into the areola around the left nipple and emptied the contents of the syringe. Blair gasped and bit his lower lip, trying to keep still and quiet, releasing the breath he'd held in a sigh when the doctor removed the needle and gently rubbed the injection site. 

"We'll just wait a minute or two for the area to get numb," Waterston said, smiling at the nervous guide. "I'll bet you're anxious to get out of here." 

Blair nodded. "How long before I get to go home?" 

"At the moment, it's your kidneys I'm most concerned with," the doctor replied. "I've scheduled an ultrasound for this afternoon. After I've had a chance to study that and check on the volume of your urine output, I'll have a better idea of how long you may need to stay here. I'm hoping," he added quickly when he saw the guide frown, "that it won't be more than a few days, at most." 

"I want to sleep in my own room, my own bed," Blair complained. "I want to bond with my sentinel and try to get my life back to normal." 

"That's very natural, especially after what you've been through," the doctor assured Blair. "But I want to make sure you're healthy enough to go home, first." 

"I'm staying here until Blair goes home," Jim informed Waterston. "Doctor Crowley won't let me go back to work for at least four weeks, maybe six; so I might as well spend my time here with Blair." 

"I certainly have no objection to that. In my experience, sentinels who care enough for their guides to remain close during treatment, get to take them home much sooner than those who abandon the guides here until they are well enough to be released." He turned his attention back to Blair, gently probing with a finger around the torn and infected nipple. "How does that feel?" 

"I don't feel a thing," Blair admitted. 

"Good. Then we'll get on with it," Waterston said. Snapping on a pair of latex gloves, he began by swabbing the area and then carefully squeezing around the wound, expelling the pus that had accumulated overnight. 

Blair tensed, pursing his lips as he watched. Although he felt nothing, it looked like it ought to hurt. A gentle hand to his cheek turned his head away from the doctor. Jim leaned in to capture the puckered lips, kissing away the tension as he drew Blair's mind to more pleasant pursuits. 

The doctor laid his tools out on the rollaway table before placing a sterile drape over Blair's chest, isolating the damaged nipple. Taking the suture thread and needle, he began to carefully stitch the nipple back into place. Just before he finished, he inserted a small tube to drain any further infection and then completed the final stitches, neatly tying off the thread. Taking a gauze pad, he covered the area before sitting back and smiling. "All done." Blair broke the kiss to look at Waterston and the small patch of white on his chest. "There's just one more thing," the doctor said, standing and walking over to a cupboard on the far side of the room. When he turned back, he was holding a hospital gown. 

"Now that we have you patched up again, there's not so much need to keep you nude." Waterston approached the bed, holding out the gown. "I thought that perhaps you might be ready for some clothing again, such as it is." 

Blair's eyes lit up and he held his arms out straight in front of him so that the doctor could slip the gown on easily. After tying the strings behind Blair's neck, Waterston lifted the blanket and tucked the gown inside, covering the previously exposed genitals and urine collection bag. "I know that as a fashion statement, this still leaves a bit to be desired... not to mention the breezy state of the posterior; however, I thought you might appreciate anything at this point." 

"Yes! Thank you!" Blair beamed a huge smile at the doctor. "Y-You don't know what it's like to be expected to be naked all the time. This, this is great!" 

Waterston smiled and nodded. "You'd be surprised what I know. You're very lucky, Blair, to have such a progressive sentinel." 

"Yeah, I know." Blair turned a beaming smile on Jim, who proceeded to capture his lips in yet another kiss. 

~oO0Oo~ 

The doctor wiped the conducting gel from the small of Blair's back and replaced the privacy drape. "You can sit up now," Waterston informed his patient. Blair sat up, pulling the drape around his lower body and leaning into the solid support of his sentinel. "The ultrasound looks good," the doctor began. "I can see no sign of atrophy or damage, but I'd like to schedule an MRI just to be on the safe side." 

Blair shook his head, his eyes growing round with fear. "No! No MRI." 

Waterston turned to give Blair a supportive smile. "There's nothing to be afraid of," he said. "If you're claustrophobic, we can give you a mild sedative first." 

"No! It's not that. It's... it's..." He turned a pleading look toward Jim. "I can't go in one of those things again. After they surgically deadened my empathy, they ran me through one of those PET machines to see how active that area of my brain was. Jim..." Blair gripped his sentinel's arm. "Please! Don't make me. They strapped me down, so that I couldn't move at all, and then they touched electrodes to different parts of my body to see how my mind would react. They... they electrocuted private places. God, Jim! I couldn't scream, I couldn't move... and they kept running me back through that damn machine over and over!" 

Jim looked up at the doctor. "Is it really necessary? I hate the thought of putting Blair through something that's going to dredge up his memories of the Facility if it isn't really necessary." 

"Blair's kidneys are my main area of concern at the moment," Doctor Waterston told the couple. "I believe that even when they withhold food at the Facility, they usually make sure the guides get enough to drink; but at the Market, things are very different. The guides are exposed to the elements all day without anything to eat or drink until they're taken in for the evening. Blair was in that environment for at least two days before being purchased by an abusive sentinel who gave him almost nothing. By the time he got here, the output from his kidneys was very nearly nil. The situation has improved since he's been getting proper hydration, but his output still isn't as high as I'd like to see. I'd really feel more comfortable if I could get a definitive test." 

Jim had wrapped an arm around his guide, and now squeezed the shaking shoulders. "How about it, Chief? I'd feel a lot better knowing for certain that everything is okay." 

"Please, Jim? No...." Blair shook his head, continuing to plead with his sentinel to not make him go through with the test. 

Brushing back a few stray hairs from Blair's forehead, Jim smiled. "Hey, it's not up to me. I don't own you, remember? It's your decision. But..." He held up a finger to stay Blair's gut reaction to his revelation. "I'd like to go on record as saying I think you should do it." Jim looked up at the doctor. "Could I be there with him during the test?" 

"The magnetic field when the machine is running is so strong that no one is in the room with the patient during the scan," Waterston informed the sentinel. "However, you can be there while we get the test set up, and you can be there as soon as it's finished." He turned to his patient. "I understand your fear, Blair; I do. You won't have to be naked, and you won't be strapped down. I can give you a sedative to help relax you, if you like. All I ask is that you hold as close to perfectly still as you can during the scan. It will only take a few minutes. Just once through. I promise." 

Blair looked from Jim to the doctor, and back to Jim. "I-I guess so," he finally said, his voice soft with resignation. "Can I go home after that?" 

"I don't see why not," Waterston agreed. "The MRI is booked solid for the next couple of days, but I'll try to set up the screening as soon as possible. In the meantime, if you're feeling up to it, I think both of you should be walking the halls. There's a lovely solarium at the far end of the building on your floor, Blair." 

Blair nodded and slipped from the exam table to settle into the wheelchair that had brought him to the ultrasound wing of the hospital. "Thanks, Doctor Waterston." 

"You're welcome, son. I'll get back to you just as soon as I can get your session scheduled." 

Jim stepped behind the wheelchair and proceeded to push it back toward the Guide Ward. "I can hear your heartbeat," he said softly to his guide. "It's skittering along like a rabbit. You don't have to be afraid here, Blair. I won't let anything happen to you." 

"I know that," said Blair, reaching over his shoulder to cover one of Jim's hands with his own. "It's just that there are so many nightmares in my head, all jostling for position. It doesn't take much to bring one to the surface." 

"Then let's do our best to forget about them for the next couple of days. What do you say?" Jim leaned down to press a kiss against Blair's temple. 

"I say, let's go for it!" Blair twisted his head to smile up at Jim. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair awoke the next morning with a great feeling of contentment. Curled into Jim's arms, his head resting on the sentinel's chest, Blair felt safe; guarded from the memories that haunted both his waking and his sleeping. He shifted slightly, turning his head so that he could suckle the nipple nearest his mouth. 

As the warm, moist lips encircled his teat, Jim moaned and tightened his hold around his guide, slowly opening his eyes. He ran a hand through the tangled curls, intending to hold Blair's head in place while his lover licked and teased the erect flesh with his teeth. His groan of pleasure was cut short as he encountered nearly-bare flesh. 

Blair froze at the abrupt end to Jim's moan. "What's the matter, Jim?" He attempted to lift his head to look at his lover but found himself held in place. 

"Damn!" The muttered epithet was soft, but explosive. Jim's fingers carded through the twisted strands of hair, revealing a rectangular patch where the long locks had been shaved away. Now, a short fuzz was beginning to return, but the flesh of the scalp was still plainly visible. 

"Jim?" This time, Blair exerted his strength, twisting in Jim's hold and pushing himself up so that he was level with his partner. 

"Why didn't you say something? Why didn't you show me?" 

Blair reached up to rub at the bald spot. "I thought you already knew," he explained. "I-I... I just have so much hair... I try to keep it covered," he finished his lame explanation. 

Jim adjusted how he was sitting, so that he was once again higher than Blair. Sensitive fingers parted the curls, untangling them to reveal the patch of scalp that had been peeled back to allow the holes to be drilled into Blair's skull. He traced the healing scars around the edges and paused as he felt the tiny holes beneath the flesh. "They're barbarians!" he spat. "God, Blair, they mentioned the surgery at the Training Facility when I went there to find you, but I didn't want to have to think about what they did, or how, or why. How bad is it?" 

"They didn't tell you?" Blair tilted his head back so that he could look up at Jim. "I'm only barely an E3; not strong enough to guide a Sentinel Detective." 

"You will always be my guide," Jim assured his lover. 

Blair shook his head. "When you're well enough to go back to work, you need a guide strong enough to protect you, shield your senses. I don't want to give you up, but I can't be that kind of guide for you anymore." 

"Then I'll find some other line of work," Jim insisted. "I'm not trading you in." 

"But you're so good at what you do," Blair countered. "I don't want to be the one to take that away from you." 

Jim pulled Blair's head back down to his chest, stroking his hand through the long hair, covering the shaved patch once more. "We'll discuss it later... way later," Jim told his guide. "When we've both recovered from our ordeals." 

Listening to the steady, strong beat of Jim's heart, Blair nodded, willing to push aside the unsettling thoughts for a while longer. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"I'm hungry." 

"It's about time!" Jim said with a chuckle, reaching across the rumpled body of his lover for the menu stashed in the nightstand drawer. "I was beginning to think you were going to start living off that glucose solution." 

"Do they have eggs and bacon?" Blair asked, trying to get a look at the menu Jim held. 

"No eggs or bacon for you," Beverly said, walking into the room and smiling. "I'm glad you're finally ready to eat something, but your chart says we need to limit sodium and cholesterol until we have a better handle on the state of your kidneys. How about some oatmeal and a fruit cup?" The nurse plucked the menu from Jim's fingers as she looked at both men. 

" _My_ chart doesn't have dietary restrictions," Jim complained, reaching for the purloined menu. 

"And you'd eat bacon and eggs in front of Blair, while he eats oatmeal?" Beverly said, clucking her tongue and shaking her head. "I thought you had a little more sympathy for your guide than that." 

"But I need to keep up my strength," Jim said, pouting. "It takes protein to maintain muscle." 

"Well, use the muscle between your ears and eat something good for your heart," Beverly insisted. "After all, it's the most important muscle in the body. You wouldn't want to clog up those arteries now, would you?" 

"She's got you there, Jim," Blair responded with a shit-eating grin. "I've tried to get him to eat better at home, but all he wants is Wonder Burger! Two oatmeals, please." 

"I thought _you_ wanted eggs and bacon!" Jim hissed when the nurse had departed. "What's with this health kick all of a sudden?" 

"Well," Blair shrugged, "she's right, you know. We ought to eat more oats and grains and a little less of the high fat foods." 

Forty minutes later, their breakfasts had been delivered and consumed, and both men were beginning to feel restless. 

"How about a walk down to the solarium?" Jim suggested. "Doc Waterston said we ought to get up and get out a bit." 

"Sounds good to me," Blair agreed, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. 

"Wait up a minute," Jim said, getting up off the opposite side of the bed and heading to the closet. He donned a robe, and then carried one over to where Blair waited. "We don't want any of your southern exposure showing." He draped the robe over his partner's shoulders, waiting while Blair shrugged his way into the thin garment. Jim took the belt and tied it securely around Blair's waist. "Now we can go." He led the way out into the hall. 

Blair walked slowly, unused to being out of bed, and still feeling a bit weak and sore from his ordeal with Alex Barnes. They had made it to the elevators when Blair stopped, leaning heavily against Jim. "I'm not going to make it all the way down there," he said, looking toward the far end of the corridor where the solarium beckoned. 

Jim maneuvered his guide over to the wall and propped him against it. "Stay put, I'll be right back," he ordered. Blair nodded as Jim turned and hurried back to the nurses' station where he picked up a wheelchair and returned for his guide. "Your chariot awaits," he said with a grin as he took Blair by the arm and helped him into the chair. The rest of the trip down the hall went quickly and soon the pair were seated on a plush couch facing the floor-to-ceiling windows. 

Blair climbed onto Jim's lap and opened the front of his sentinel's robe, snuggling against the warmth of the bare skin. "I want you, Jim. I need you so badly," he sighed. 

"Soon, Sweetheart. You're getting stronger every day, and Doctor Crowley says I can go home whenever I want." When Blair's head rose abruptly, Jim quickly added, "But I'm not leaving until you can come with me." Blair settled back down and looked out over the lush garden-like park and the sparkling fountain. 

"It's so peaceful here," Blair commented, rubbing a hand across Jim's chest. "So quiet, so protected." 

"It's shielded," Jim reminded him. "This is supposed to be a safe haven for sick and injured guides." 

"I know," Blair said softly. "But the Training Facility wasn't shielded. It was hell in there, even after... after..." 

"After they dampened your empathy?" Jim finished for his guide. 

Blair nodded. "It's like night and day between there and here. I'd rather be here." He tilted his head up and parted his lips in invitation. 

Jim took the hint and captured the willing mouth, filling his senses with the taste, smell, sight, sound, and feel of his guide, his lover. He didn't care what Blair said, what anyone tried to tell him about what he needed in a guide. Everything he needed was here, in his arms, and he'd make do or do without rather than take another in Blair's place. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair lay on the gurney wearing nothing more than the thin hospital gown. Jim stood at his side, holding his hand and speaking softly while the sedative took effect. "It's going to be fine, Sweetheart, you'll see." 

"Jus' one pass through...." Blair murmured, his eyelids growing heavier by the moment. 

"Yup, just once through the machine and you're done," Jim assured him. "No restraints, no shocks." He brushed some stray hairs away from Blair's forehead. "Try to relax, let the sedative work. This will be over before you know it." 

"You'll be here --" 

"I'll be just outside the chamber room," Jim assured him. "And as soon as it's over, I'll be right by your side. Promise." 

"Okay." Blair's fingers curled weakly around Jim's hand and squeezed. "I'll be fine." 

"Yes, you will." Jim affirmed. "Just keep telling yourself that." 

"It's time, Jim," Doctor Waterston informed the sentinel. Turning to Blair, he patted the guide's arm. "Now just try to relax; this will all be over in a few minutes." 

Blair mentally braced himself for the ordeal and watched as Jim and the doctor left the room. He felt himself being moved into the chamber of the huge machine and then felt a vibrating hum. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the good times he had spent with Jim -- especially the camping trips. He loved the camping with its isolation and completely relaxed atmosphere. A smile curled his lips. 

A hand dropped onto his shoulder. 

"It's over, Chief. You're done." Jim smiled down at his guide. 

Blair blinked his eyes open. "Done?" He felt slightly disconnected, like his body was floating; yet not. 

"Yep. Now it's back to our room until the sedative wears off. I think you fell asleep, Sweetheart." Jim gently stroked the broad forehead and grinned. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" 

Blair could only find enough energy to shake his head. When he woke up over two hours later, Doctor Waterston was conversing quietly with Jim. 

"The scans look clean, and I'm pleased with the current output of Blair's kidneys. I'd like to see him again in six months for some follow-up tests, but I'd say there was no permanent damage done and no special measures that need to be followed." 

"No dietary restrictions?" Jim asked, with a glance at his sleeping partner. 

"Well, a low-sodium diet is good for anyone, at any time, but no... no special restrictions," said Waterston. 

"Hey, Babe!" Jim smiled at the sleepy blue eyes that had quietly opened to observe the sentinel and the doctor. "Did you hear the good news?" 

"I get to go home?" Blair rubbed the sleep from his eyes and pushed himself into a sitting position. 

"I'd like for you to stay until the sedative is completely worn off," the doctor stated. "The narcotic effects can last several hours. I'll be back with your release papers this afternoon. How does that sound?" 

"Good." Blair nodded and smiled. 

"I'll send Doctor Crowley up to okay Jim's release, but I think you can both go home later today," Doctor Waterston told the couple. 

"That's good news, Doc. Thanks." Jim grinned at the doctor, and then turned to smile and wink at Blair. "It won't be long now." 

"Thank God," Blair whispered in return. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Doctor Crowley straightened and wrapped the stethoscope around his neck. "Well, the lung sounds are good," he said. "I can't think of any reason to keep you hospitalized, especially since your guide is being released as well." The doctor's eyes narrowed somewhat and he shook a stern finger at the sentinel. "However, you are _not_ to go into work until I give the okay. I want to see you again in four weeks for a reevaluation. In the meantime, there is to be no vigorous activity and no stress. Think you can handle that?" 

"I'll see to it that he follows your orders," Blair said, staring down his frowning partner. "Thanks, Doctor Crowley. I appreciate your taking care of Jim for me." 

Doctor Crowley reached out to pat Blair's shoulder. "Anytime. While I can't say he was a model patient, I can see why, now, that he disobeyed orders." 

A faint blush crept up Blair's cheeks as Jim's arm snaked around his shoulders and pulled him into a loose embrace. "I knew you'd see it my way, once you met Blair," said Jim. 

"Just take it easy," Crowley admonished as he turned to leave the room. 

"Well, I guess that's it," Jim said, standing. "I had Simon drop off some clothes for you while you were sleeping." He walked over to the closet and pulled out the jeans, T-shirt, and a blue plaid flannel shirt. 

Blair dressed quickly, grateful to finally be wearing real clothes again, but just as anxious to shed them once they got home. He followed Jim through the halls and the hospital's lobby to the discharge area. Simon was waiting for them in his Chrysler. As they approached, he leaned across the seat and opened the passenger door. 

"If it's all the same to you, Simon," Jim said, opening the rear door, "Blair and I would like to sit together in the back." 

"Suit yourselves," Simon said, settling back behind the wheel as Jim slammed the front door shut. The drive across town was brief. Simon dropped the sentinel and guide off in the parking lot and headed back toward the PD and a stack of reports that were due at the Chief of Police's office yesterday. 

Jim swung the door to the loft open and ushered Blair inside. His partner stopped only a few steps into the room to stare silently at his surroundings. "Hey, Chief. You okay?" He approached and rested a grounding hand on his guide's shoulder. 

"Huh? Oh, yeah," Blair said, his voice distracted and soft. "It's just so beautiful. I wasn't sure I was ever going to see home again." 

"Well, you're here now, and here is where you're going to stay." Jim helped Blair with his coat, hanging it on one of the hooks by the door. "It's a little cold in here," he commented, rubbing his hands together. "How about we start a fire in the fireplace?" 

"How about we start a fire upstairs?" Blair was already halfway across the floor to the staircase that led up to their bedroom. 

Several long strides brought Jim alongside his guide. "Are you sure? After all you went through... I can wait, Sweetheart. We don't have to bond right now." 

"I want to, Jim. I _need_ to," insisted Blair. 

Jim nodded curtly. "All right, but I'm going to start the fire down here, first. We really do need to take the chill out of the room. I don't want you getting sick on me now that we're home." 

"Okay, but don't take too long." 

Blair headed up the stairs and Jim could hear the rustling of clothes being removed and of the bedding being pulled back. He felt a tightening in his groin and a call to bond stronger than any he'd ever felt before. It had been too long; too long without the intimate contact of body and mind. Too long without his other half to complete him. He hurried to get the fire started, and then rushed up the stairs to find Blair in the center of their bed; naked, aroused, his flesh covered with goose bumps. 

Jim felt his heart swell with the love he felt for this man. Blair had been kept naked and abused for two weeks, and yet he loved and trusted his sentinel enough to give him the gift of his body. Jim stripped quickly and climbed into bed, pulling the blankets over them both. He gathered Blair into his arms, reveling at the feel of flesh against flesh. He captured the willing lips, ravishing the delectable mouth before abandoning it to explore more of the exposed skin. He suckled an earlobe before kissing his way across the square jaw and down the long neck to the prominent Adam's apple. Above him, Blair moaned, squirming slightly beneath the tender onslaught. 

Slipping down under the covers, Jim wrapped his lips around the one exposed nipple. Carefully, he licked the tiny nub, suckling gently, careful to avoid any teasing with his teeth. Despite the abuse his body had gone through at the hands of Alex Barnes, Blair hummed with excitement and arousal. 

"Oh, God! Jiiiim!" Blair's hips bucked as his partner licked his way down the firm abdomen to capture the hard cock in his mouth. The moist heat engulfing his member sent Blair over the edge. Blinding flashes of Alex laughing as she fucked his raw cock flamed in his mind, igniting his panic. " _Noooooo! God, no! Ahhhhhhhhhhhhh!_ " He began to flail, striking randomly and ineffectually at the body hovered over his. 

Jim let the aroused cock slip from his mouth as he turned quickly to quell the rising hysteria of his guide. "Blair! Sweetheart!" He captured the terrified face between his palms and forced his lover to look him in the eyes. "It's me. It's Jim. I'm here; you're safe. You're safe." He continued to lock gazes with the frightened guide as Blair slowly calmed down, recognizing the voice of his sentinel and protector. "You're safe. It's just me." 

"Jim?" Blair blinked, feeling as though he was waking from some terrible nightmare. "What happened?" He reached up to touch Jim's cheek, reassuring himself that his sentinel was real. 

"You had a flashback," Jim said grimly. "Apparently, my sucking your cock set off some bad memories." 

"Oh, God, I'm so sorry, Jim!" Tears welled in Blair's eyes, but he blinked them back. "I didn't mean to spoil this for you." 

"For _me_?" Jim was incredulous. "You didn't spoil anything for me, lover. _I_ spoiled it for you." 

Blair shook his head. "It doesn't matter," he said, his voice resigned. He took a few minutes to breathe, to get his emotions back under control. Jim settled in beside him, wrapping strong arms around his chest. When Blair spoke again, a note of pleading had entered his voice. "Bond with me, please?" 

"Oh, Babe, are you sure? Maybe it's too soon. Your training sentinel --" 

"My training sentinel raped my mind and my body," Blair said coldly. "He tried to sever my bond with you. I-I had to let him... let him connect... but I never opened fully to his mind. I need to reconnect, Jim. I need to be a part of you again." 

"I don't know, Blair... After what just happened, maybe we should wait." 

"No!" Blair pushed out of the comfortable embrace and glared at his sentinel. "It's not my choice. I _have_ to do this! I have to...." His voice softened and trailed off. 

Jim looked into the sad eyes and saw emptiness there, a void that only he could fill. Nodding, he reached for the nightstand drawer and pulled out the lube. "All right, but we're going to go slow and gentle. If we do this, we'll do it my way." 

Blair nodded mutely, his eyes following his sentinel's every move. 

"How do you want to do this?" Jim asked, waving his hand along the length of Blair's body. 

"Any way you want," the guide responded, "except on my hands and knees." 

"Or your back," Jim added, recalling the nightmare vision of Blair bound spread eagle on Alex's bed. "I guess we'll do it spooned. How does that sound?" 

"Sure, Jim. That's good." Blair proceeded to roll onto his side, his back facing his partner. 

Jim squeezed a generous amount of lube onto his fingers and probed slowly and carefully into his guide's body. "Any time you feel uncomfortable, say something," he reminded his lover. "If you want to stop, just say so and we'll stop. I don't want another panic attack." 

"Me neither," came the soft response. Blair forced himself to relax, to let out the breath he was holding. This was Jim preparing him. This was his lover, his sentinel, the man who had vowed never to hurt him. 

Jim felt the tight channel relax minutely and he let out his own breath in a sigh of relief. A second finger joined the first, and he gently massaged his lover's prostate, wringing a moan of pleasure from the plush lips. Blair's hips began to push back against the invading fingers, driving them deeper. Jim held still and let his guide fuck himself on Jim's fingers, riding the wave of emotions washing from the empath as his completion drew near. 

With a cry that echoed around the loft, Blair climaxed, shooting creamy come across the bed sheets. In the wake of his orgasm, Blair relaxed and turned to smile at his lover. "You're amazing, you know that? God, I love you." 

Brushing the sweat-dampened hair from Blair's forehead, Jim let his fingers slip from the warm channel of his guide's body. "Are you ready?" 

"More than ready." Blair's voice was breathy with need. "Claim your guide, Sentinel!" 

Generously lubing his aching cock, Jim positioned himself and pressed inward until he was fully sheathed. With his body spooned behind Blair's, he felt connected to his lover and guide as he hadn't felt in a fortnight. His mind reached out, not finding the familiar strength that used to engulf him. 

/ Blair? / here I am, my sentinel; I have waited for you / my guide, forever / you have always been my sentinel; no other / together, we'll be strong / I rely on your strength, sentinel mine / and I on yours, my guide / we are one, as we have always been / I love you, Blair / and I you... / 

With the mental affirmation, Jim began to thrust gently into the willing body, carefully monitoring the emotions emanating from his guide, prepared to withdraw at the first sign of anxiety. 

Blair groaned and ground back against his lover. A part of his mind had feared the renewed bonding; feared that he would see only Travers raping him. But he had underestimated his sentinel's love. The emotions cocooning him were warm and gentle, strong and protective. Jim did not take; Blair _gave_... and that was the thing that made all the difference to the reclaimed guide. Warmth flooded him and Blair's mind blazed with a kaleidoscope of colors as Jim's orgasm wrung an unexpected second climax from his exhausted body. 

Still joined in the union of bodies and souls, the sentinel and guide drifted into a healing sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"We should practice using my senses," Jim suggested one morning about a week later. "When I go back to work, we're going to have to be able to work as a team." 

Blair looked up from the couch where he was reading an anthropology journal in preparation for his return to teaching at the beginning of the winter term in January. "I thought we discussed that," he said wearily. "I'm only an E3. I can't guide you anymore." 

" _We_ didn't discuss anything," Jim reminded him. "You told me you couldn't do it, but we haven't tried." 

"I worked with Travers," Blair explained. "I could barely get a read on his senses at all. I wouldn't be any good in the field." 

"But you weren't bonded to Travers," insisted Jim. "You said as much yourself. I've felt your mind in our bond. We have a connection, Blair. We can do this." 

Blair put down his book and looked outside to the rare, sunny afternoon. "I'm not going to get you to give up on the idea until we try, am I?" 

"You're learning, Einstein. Get your coat, we're going to the park." Jim slipped into his heavy jacket and picked up the keys from the basket by the door. 

Wearily, Blair rose and grabbed his coat, resigned to having to prove to his stubborn sentinel that he had been right all along. 

They parked on the street and Jim got out. When Blair didn't immediately follow, he walked around to the passenger side door and opened it. "Come on; it's a beautiful day!" He tugged at Blair's arm until the guide climbed out and stood by his side. After locking up the truck, Jim started down the sidewalk to Holden Park, less than a block away. 

"What do you suggest we do first?" Jim said. 

Blair glanced around, a smoldering anxiety building in his chest. "I, ah.... Let's work on smell," he suggested, spying the Mr. Tube Steak vendor a block away. "Even I can smell the hotdogs from here," Blair said, "but there's a customer at the stand.... Can you tell what toppings he chose for his dog?" 

Jim sniffed the air, conscious of Blair's grounding presence, but not feeling the extra boost Blair's empathy usually imparted. "Well, um, sauerkraut and onions," he said at last. His eyes came to rest on Blair. "What's the matter? Did I make a mistake?" 

"No, no --" Blair assured him. "At least not so far as I can tell from here...." 

"But...?" 

"I couldn't connect with your senses. I was trying, man. Honestly I was." Blair frowned. "This isn't going to work, is it?" 

"Don't give up on it so fast," said Jim. "We both know they lowered your E-rating, and this is the first time we've really tried to work together like this in nearly a month. We just need to give it some time. Practice." 

"If you say so." 

"I do," Jim replied emphatically. "Now, let's try something else. How about hearing? Maybe I can make out what the couple over there is saying," he said, pointing to a man and woman standing in a small gazebo about three hundred yards away. 

"Okay," agreed Blair. He rested a hand on Jim's arm and concentrated as hard as he knew how on his partner's senses. 

"They're arguing over who to invite to Thanksgiving dinner this year," Jim said, smiling. "At least we don't have that problem." 

"Are we still going to eat with Simon and Daryl?" Blair asked. "I thought I'd bake one mince and one pumpkin pie, make some fresh cranberry sauce, and maybe those mashed sweet potatoes Simon likes so much." 

"Whoa, there!" Jim laughed. "It sounds to me like someone is trying to change the subject here. _We_ weren't discussing Thanksgiving. _We_ were working on my senses." Jim tried to scowl at his reluctant guide, but couldn't keep the twinkle from his eye as a thought suddenly occurred to him. "We could test my sense of taste next --" He gathered Blair into his arms and captured the gaping mouth, his tongue probing deeply into the warm recesses. 

With a suddenness that surprised the sentinel, Blair began to struggle -- cursing and fighting to be free of the embrace. 

< ======= >

Hard lips pressed against his mouth and a tongue probed against his teeth for entrance. A hand tangled in his hair, pressing Blair against the sentinel. Reluctantly, he opened to the kiss, nearly gagging as Travers' tongue swept his mouth, tasting and marking him. 

So intent on the unwanted kiss, Blair jerked with surprise as two fingers entered his ass, caressing him, touching him. As the fingers probed deeper, Blair came up on his toes in an effort to be free of the intimate invasion. An unwanted wave of arousal swept his body as the fingers located his prostate and began to rhythmically stroke the small mound. His cock swelled, pressing against the sentinel's thigh. 

The kiss continued, unabated, bringing Blair to the brink of orgasm. 

< ======= >

"Stop it! Stop it! Get away from me! Leave me alone, you motherfucking bastard!" 

"Blair?" Jim stepped back, reeling from the rejection, confused by the scent of arousal wafting from his guide. "What's the matter? What did I do?" 

Blair stomped around in a tight circle, blowing off the panic that threatened to send him fleeing from the presence of his sentinel. Finally, he got his emotions under control. Through gritted teeth, his gave his curt answer. "Travers raped me here in the park, right after a training session. He -- he kissed me, to... to test... his... sense...." 

"Of taste," Jim finished, realizing his mistake. "God, Blair! I'm sorry! I didn't know." Despite his guide's body language, Jim approached, holding out his arms. 

Blair hesitated, and then fell into the embrace, burying his face in the fleece lapel of Jim's jacket. 

They returned home, doffing their coats by the door. Blair's eyes drifted up toward the bedroom, a haunted look filling their cobalt depths. 

"We don't have to, if you're not ready," said Jim softly, coming up behind his guide. "Maybe you'd rather talk instead?" 

"About what?" Blair's voice was bitter as he turned to face his sentinel. "About how many times, how many ways, I was raped and humiliated during my 'retraining'? I don't think so, Jim. It's a part of my life I'd rather put behind me." 

"Until it jumps up to bite us both in the ass," Jim replied softly. "Like this afternoon in the park. I didn't know, Blair. I swear I didn't know." 

"I know you didn't," said Blair with a sigh. "I was uneasy going to the park for the practice. I should have said something to you." 

"Why didn't you?" 

Blair took a few seconds to think about it. "Because I wanted our lives to be normal. I didn't want what happened to me at the Facility to haunt every move we made." 

"Maybe if you told me some of it, it would be easier to deal with," suggested Jim. "I'd know what sort of situations to avoid --" 

"But that's just my point," Blair argued. "I don't want you to have to avoid anything. I want our lives to be normal. I want to love you the way I loved you before any of this ever happened." 

"We can't undo what's been done," Jim remarked reasonably. "What we need to do is find a way to work around it. If anything, I love you more now than before. Almost losing you made me realize just how very much I need you in my life." 

"Prove it to me." 

Jim looked down into the trusting face, reading the need there and feeling it thrum through his own body. Taking Blair's hand, he led his guide up the stairs to their bed. 

* * *

Blair's weeping erection probed at the entrance to his sentinel's body. Jim moaned, thrusting his hips backward in an effort to impale himself on the hard cock. Hot kisses trailed down his back, leaving him quivering with need. Slowly the hard flesh entered Jim's body, filling his ass as a beloved presence filled his mind. 

/ my sentinel / my lover; my guide in all things / 

Blair jerked, thrusting his cock deeper into his lover as a brief twinge raced through his body. For an instant, he felt every muscle encasing his erection, could count every thread in the sheets with his fingertips, felt the rasp of every individual chest hair as he leaned over Jim's smooth back. 

/ all of you belongs to me, sentinel / take what you need; take everything, my guide / 

His arousal built to dizzying heights as the guide pounded hard into his sentinel's body, claiming both the man and his senses for his own. As his orgasm washed through him, he could hear Jim's heartbeat, feel the pounding of the blood through the arteries in his cock; he could see every drop of perspiration individually glistening on Jim's back, sense with acuity the pheromones roiling off his lover. 

/ MINE, sentinel / yours, guide / 

Darkness and silence enveloped Blair. For a brief moment he was blind and deaf, before his own, normal senses kicked back in and the world reformed around him. He lay wrapped in the circle of Jim's arms, intent blue eyes watching his every flicker of movement. 

"You okay?" 

"What happened?" 

"I was hoping you could tell me," Jim said, still studying his lover's face. "We climaxed together, and for just an instant, it was like all my senses had dialed up to the max all at once. And then you passed out." 

Blair nodded. "Yeah, I remember... Everything... everything _spiked_. It was like, I don't know, like I was _you_." 

"Like we could do before..." Jim added softly. 

"Before...." echoed Blair. 

"So, are you all right?" Jim leaned forward to brush a gentle kiss across the full lips. 

Blair leaned into the kiss, deepening it, opening himself to the sensations of his lover. When they finally parted, he sighed. "Yeah, I'm fine. Back to normal; whatever that means." 

"There's nothing wrong with normal, Babe," Jim whispered, pulling Blair to him and holding him close. "Sleep now. Everything is going to work out. You'll see." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"What the fuck? Jim, what the hell are you doing?" Blair poked his head over the railing to glare at the sentinel in the kitchen. 

Jim stood next to the sink, sucking a finger. "Just fixing breakfast; go back to sleep." 

"Not likely," the disheveled guide grumbled getting up and shuffling down the stairs. He walked over to where Jim stood by the sink and grabbed his wrist, pulling the injured finger from Jim's mouth. "You cut yourself!" 

"It's not serious. I was just trying to dice some vegetables for your omelet." 

"It was serious enough to wake me from a sound sleep!" Blair complained. "You screamed louder than a banshee!" 

"Did not," Jim countered. 

"Did _so_ ," Blair argued. "I heard you; loud and clear!" 

"Blair, I didn't yell. I think I muttered 'shit', but that was the extent of my outburst." 

"But... but, I _heard_ you!" Blair repeated softly. "How could I have heard you if you didn't scream?" 

"You're an empath, Darwin. Did you forget?" Jim smiled at his lover. Blair could be very dense in the morning until he'd had a couple cups of coffee. 

"Only just," Blair reminded him. "An E3 would never have 'heard' a mental cry like that. What do you suppose it means?" 

"I don't know," Jim admitted, setting aside the breakfast preparations and leading Blair over to the couch. "Do you suppose it has anything to do with those sensory spikes we both experienced last night?" 

Blair shook his head. "I don't know what to think. All I know is that I want everything to be like it was before. Maybe I'm just imagining all this -- hallucinating. Maybe I just want it so badly that I'm making it happen." 

Jim sat for a moment, a thoughtful look on his face. "You know, maybe you're right." He smiled at Blair. "Didn't I read somewhere that humans only use a small percentage of the brain power available to them?" 

"Something on the order of ten percent," Blair agreed. "Empaths of the higher order use up to fifteen percent. That still leaves 85% untapped. What are you getting at?" 

"I think you already have an idea," Jim pointed out. "Could you be reforging your empathic pathways; creating new ones to replace the ones destroyed?" 

"I suppose... it's possible," agreed Blair. "Stroke victims can relearn to walk and talk, to use their fine muscular control again. It just takes a lot of practice and hard work." 

"You were an E10 before the surgery --" 

"E10- _plus_ ," Blair corrected. "I was the most powerful empath to come out of the Facility since they've been able to measure empathic ability. No one knew how powerful I might become." 

"But we found out," Jim answered. "And you paid the ultimate price for that knowledge." He reached out to stroke the silken curls, to ground himself in his guide's steady presence. "Maybe you are even more powerful than anybody knows --" 

"How so?" The look on Blair's face was so open, so vulnerable. The hope that shone there lit a desire deep within the sentinel. 

"Maybe you are strong enough to recover, to retrain yourself to be a top-grade empath." Jim lifted both of Blair's hands and squeezed them tightly. "What we need to do, is practice. Use my senses, reforge our bond." 

Blair nodded. "If this works, I could easily get another research paper from the data." His eyes lit up with mirth. 

"You and your research, Professor," Jim said, reaching out to tug on a convenient lock of hair. "You never quit, do you?" 

"It's why you love me," Blair teased. He yelped with surprise as his sentinel tackled him, finding all his ticklish spots while efficiently stripping him naked. 

/ sentinel! / 

Blair's mind cried out as Jim's cock pierced him. 

/ I'll teach you to provoke me, guide! / I surrender! yours, sentinel. yours! / mine, guide! mine! / oh, gooooooddddd...! / 

Blair went rigid as the brief sensory assault hit him full force. As with the night before, he went limp as he climaxed, passing out from the overload of the experience. When he woke, he was wrapped in the afghan from the back of the couch and settled comfortably in Jim's arms. 

"Chief, I think we need to find out what's going on...." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"It's getting more pronounced every time we bond," Blair told his sentinel three days later. "All my senses spike, as if I were the sentinel. It's like my mind short circuits into yours and we become one for an instant." 

"Isn't that sort of what you did before, when we worked together?" Jim asked. He remembered with crystal clarity the first time Blair had hijacked his senses. It was at the ill-fated sentinel-guide conference in Seattle where his fellow detective, Donald Sheffield, had kidnapped Blair. Sheffield had eventually met an untimely end, at the instant Blair had discovered the power to kill with his mind. 

"This isn't the same," Blair explained. "I had control then. Now, it just knocks me on my ass." 

"Well, maybe we need to find a way to control it. Perhaps we should talk to Doctor Waterston? See about getting your E-rating rechecked?" 

Blair held up his hands, palms out, warding off the suggestion. "No way, man! I am NOT going through that again." 

"But wouldn't it help to know?" Jim wondered. 

"It wouldn't do a damn thing to help me control this... this... whatever it is," Blair spat. "And I damn well don't want anyone else knowing that something is going on with me. We still don't know who turned me in the first time. I am _not_ going back to the Facility!" 

Jim rested his hands on Blair's shoulders. "Calm down, Chief. Nobody is going to find out anything. Whatever is happening, it's our secret, and we'll deal with it. Okay?" He searched Blair's face for understanding and agreement. "Okay?" he repeated. 

"Okay," Blair finally agreed, releasing the breath he'd been holding. "I'm just so nervous about all this. What if... what if I can kill again? What then?" 

"We're a long way from you being that powerful." 

"How do you know? Something could happen tomorrow, or next week!" Blair broke free of the steadying hands and began pacing the floor. 

"Then we'll work on control," Jim reasoned. "We'll find a way, Blair. I'm not letting them take you from me again. I swear." 

"Then we'd better get started." The guide stopped his pacing and folded his arms across his chest. "We can't afford to waste what time we have left." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"I need to get back to work." Jim paced the hardwood floor from the balcony doors to the kitchen island. 

Blair looked up from where he was fixing a warm lunch of chicken soup and dumplings. "Sentinels weren't meant to be cooped up," he commiserated. "But Doctor Crowley said you still need another two weeks to recover before you can return to work." 

"But I've already been off for four!" Jim complained. 

Blair lifted his head to look out at the bleak, December day. "Too bad it's winter. It would do us both some good to go out camping. That return to the wilderness thing is essential for sentinels and, by extension, their guides." 

"Why not?" 

"Huh? Why not, what, Jim?" Blair put down the wooden spoon he was using to stir the soup to look at his sentinel. 

"Why not go camping?" 

"Um, have you looked outside recently? It's fucking winter out there!" Blair pointed to the rain beating against the glass balcony doors. "I'm not camping out in weather like that!" 

"It would be snowing in the mountains," Jim said thoughtfully. 

"Yeah, like that's any better? What do you plan on doing, digging a snow cave?" Blair carried the bowls of soup and dumplings to the table and sat down opposite his deranged lover. 

"I was thinking more along the lines of the ski lodge up on Mount Baker," Jim suggested. "For a price, they have private cabins isolated back in the forested area; all amenities included." 

Blair's eyes lit up. "Just you and me, alone in a mountain cabin?" 

"Surrounded by the Snoqualmie National Forest and a lot of snow," Jim agreed. "Not to mention a nice, comfy bed piled high with down comforters." 

"And a fireplace?" 

"With a bearskin rug in front of it." 

"What are we waiting for?" Blair asked, wiping his mouth with a napkin and pushing away from the table. "I'll clean up the dishes, you go pack. The isolation of the mountains might be the final key to my gaining complete control over my empathy." 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Oh, man!" Blair's jaw dropped when they stepped into the cabin. The guide had been having second thoughts about their intended mountain getaway, especially after the second time their four-wheel drive SUV had gotten stuck in the blowing snow. But the sight that greeted his eyes made up for any discomfort or inconvenience. 

An overstuffed couch faced a huge stone fireplace. Wood was stacked high to one side, and a fur rug stretched out in front, just as Jim had said that it would. A double bed, piled high with comforters stood tucked into one corner, and a kitchenette filled the other. The only other room in the cozy cabin was the luxurious bathroom, complete with a hot tub and an unobstructed view of the winter wonderland outside their windows. 

"This is fantastic!" said Blair, slowly raking his gaze over each item in the cabin. "How long have we got here?" 

"I arranged for the full two weeks," Jim answered, smiling at the look of surprise on his guide's shocked face. "I thought that after all the work we've done over the past couple weeks with you controlling my senses, you deserved a break, too." 

"Oh God, Jim, this is perfect!" Blair sighed with contentment. "If we can't connect here, it's never going to happen." 

"Oh, I plan on us doing a lot of connecting." Jim chuckled as understanding dawned in the bright eyes of his partner. "I doubt either one of us is going to need a change of clothing for the entire two weeks." 

"Well, I can tell you right now that I'm not prancing around this cabin in the nude until after you get the fire started!" Blair chuckled and danced his way just out of reach of his lunging partner. "While you do that, I'll get our supplies and stock the kitchen." 

"Don't take too long," Jim called over his shoulder as he began placing kindling in the firebox and stacking the heavy, split logs on top. "I'll have this going before you know it." 

Blair opened the front door to a blast of icy wind and trudged out to the truck to carry in their boxes of provisions for the next two weeks. With a sigh of relief, he set the boxes on the counter and started putting things into the refrigerator. "I feel like I'm on an expedition to Antarctica!" he complained. "How much longer before you have that fire going?" 

"Just about there..." Jim said, setting a match to the kindling and blowing gently on the flame. "It won't be long now." 

Finished with his chore, Blair wandered over to sit cross-legged on the rug next to Jim. "Looks like it will be a while before it's big enough to heat the whole cabin." 

Jim tossed the long, wooden match into the fireplace and turned to his lover. "I thought that maybe we could make a little heat of our own while we waited." He reached over to push Blair's heavy coat from his shoulders and began unbuttoning the flannel shirt beneath. 

"Aw, Jim... It's still too cold in here --" 

Jim ignored his partner's weak protest and moved in closer to capture the pouting lips in a kiss. Blair reached out to wrap his arms around Jim's neck and opened to the gentle assault, letting his lover devour his mouth. As Jim's tongue probed deep, tasting the essence of his guide, Blair could feel the thrum of arousal vibrating through his body, expanding the blood vessels and heating him up. 

Eagerly, Blair shrugged out of his clothing, needing the skin-on-skin contact with his lover. As Jim's kisses trailed down his throat, Blair started to unbutton his partner's shirt with clumsy fingers. Finally, frustrated by his desire, he began popping buttons, ripping the shirt open to expose the smooth flesh beneath. 

Jim pressed Blair onto his back on the fur rug, working his mouth down his lover's chest to capture the recently reconstructed nipple in his mouth. As he suckled, the nub hardened beneath him, puckering the scar left by the stitches. Blair moaned and arched under him, seeking attention for his hard and weeping cock. 

Kicking off his jeans, Jim settled his naked body on top of Blair's, pressing their erections between them. Blair reached up and clasped Jim's face between his palms, kissing his lover as strong legs wrapped around Jim, flipping him over so that Blair was on top. Rocking his hips, Blair rubbed their cocks together; slippery pre-come lubricating them as the friction helped to escalate their arousals toward climax. 

As the fire crackled in the hearth, cries of completion echoed in the winter stillness and the two men snuggled together to rest in the afterglow of their love. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"Are you okay with this?" Jim asked, gesturing at their naked bodies. 

Blair finished drying the plate Jim had handed him and put it up in the cupboard. "Yeah," he nodded. "Yeah, really. It's fine. Hell, I'd forgotten how liberating nudity could be." 

"Liberating, eh?" Jim turned away from the dishes in the sink to smile at his lover. 

"Well, yeah." Blair returned the grin. "During the time I was growing up, Naomi took us to live at several nudist camps. She told me there was nothing to be embarrassed about the human body; that this is how God meant for us to be." 

"So it doesn't make you uncomfortable; bring back bad memories?" 

Blair shook his head. "Brings back some rather nice ones, actually." He put down his towel and stretched up to place a kiss on Jim's cheek. "When everyone is nude, there's no shame attached. 

"The guide trainers and most sentinels want to make sure that the guides know how little they are valued, how everything they have in this world is given to them by their owners. Nudity in a society where everyone else is dressed is a form of oppression, and most guides stay silent simply so as not to draw unwanted attention." 

Jim dried his hands and turned to wrap his arms around his lover. "It never stopped you from speaking your mind." He leaned down for another brief kiss. 

"Mom always said I talked too much." Blair grinned and squirmed out of the warm embrace. "If we're done with the dishes, we need to do some more sensory exercises," he said. 

"What are we working on today?" 

Blair took down a half dozen mugs from the cupboards and began to fill them with water. "I thought we'd work on taste." 

"Hey, we just finished the dishes! What are you doing?" Jim complained. 

Blair shrugged. "You haven't poured out the dishwater yet," he pointed out. "This won't take long. Go check and see if the fire needs more wood." 

Reluctantly, Jim left his partner in the kitchen and went to inspect the fireplace. While he was gone, Blair took a few grains of salt and put them in one cup, sugar granules in another, a drop of vanilla in a third; filling all the cups with minute traces of flavorings from the cupboard. When Jim returned, Blair pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and blindfolded the sentinel. 

"This is to keep you from using your eyes to help," Blair explained. "Smell and taste are very closely linked, so while we're primarily working on taste today, smell will also be a factor. I've put a very small amount of an unknown substance in each mug." When Jim started to protest, Blair laid a reassuring hand on his arm. "Don't worry; everything is perfectly edible. Now, what I want you to do is taste each one, and tell me what I put in the water." He guided Jim's hand to the first mug. 

Jim took a sip and held the water in his mouth briefly before swallowing. "Cocoa." 

"All right. Good!" Blair said, nodding and smiling even though the blindfolded man couldn't see. "Try this one." 

"Salt." Blair pushed another mug toward the sentinel's hand. "Vanilla --" 

"Yes! You're doing great, man. Keep going." 

"Sugar --" Jim turned his head in the direction of his guide. "What are you trying to do here, bake a cake?" 

Blair chuckled and then continued. "I want to try something else now," he said, taking hold of Jim's arm. "I want you to taste this last mug. I've put a mixture of extracts into this one; some of which should be hard to distinguish from the others. I'm going to try to guide you. I want you to tell me all the flavors you can pick out of the mix." He closed his eyes and concentrated on his sentinel. 

/ I'm here; let me guide you... / 

Jim took a sip from the final mug and the flavors burst across his tongue, lighting up behind his eyes in a fireworks-like explosion of color. He could feel his guide's body pressed against his back; could feel Blair's cock hardening as Jim's mind fought to separate out the flavors. And then a voice: "Almond... vanilla... root beer... maple... lemon... orange..." But it wasn't his. Behind him, Blair was reciting the litany of flavors. 

/ my guide... / I'm here, my sentinel; I taste with your mouth, smell with your nose / you hear with my ears, see with my eyes; we are one / as we were meant to be / 

The presence in his mind withdrew and Jim reached up to remove the blindfold. "What just happened here?" 

Blair was still standing behind Jim, pressed up against his back. He had rested his head against Jim's shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to control the tidal wave of arousal that swept through him. Jim felt something hot spread across the back of his thigh and begin to drip down his leg. He turned in time to see Blair sinking to the floor in slow motion, his sated cock spent and limp. 

"Blair? Are you all right?" Jim knelt next to his guide, brushing the hair away from his face. "Blair?" 

The younger man nodded, still gathering his strength. "I-It was like before... when I could take control of your senses." 

"It sure as hell was!" Jim exclaimed. "I felt like a fucking remote control!" 

"S-Sorry, Jim," Blair apologized softly. "I-I didn't know I could still do that." 

Jim gathered the quaking body into his arms, pressing Blair's head against his chest. "I didn't know you could, either," he said softly. "I'm the one who should be apologizing. Blair, that was incredible! Imagine what we can do together if you can amplify _all_ my senses like that!" 

The soft sound of snoring rose from below his right shoulder. Smiling, Jim disentangled himself from his guide and stood, lifting the younger man into his arms and carrying him to the bed. After a quick detour to the bathroom for a damp cloth to clean them both, Jim spooned behind the smaller man and followed him into sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair looked at the rapidly dwindling pile of wood next to the fireplace. "I hate to be the one to point this out," he said, "but I think we're going to need to go out and get ourselves some more wood pretty soon, or we're going to run out." 

Jim lifted his head from where he had been nuzzling at the nape of Blair's neck to follow his partner's gaze to the woodpile. After a quick assessment of their need, he lifted his eyes to the windows. "It stopped snowing. Maybe we ought to go out now, while we have a chance." 

Blair sighed and sat up from where he'd been reclining on the couch and Jim's lap. "All good things must come to an end... Let's go before I change my mind." He stood and offered a hand to help Jim up. After an hour of Blair lying across his legs, Jim was finding he had to stomp feeling back into the sleeping limbs. 

"Here you go!" Blair tossed Jim's clothes at him and began to get dressed. It felt a little strange donning the restricting clothing after over a week of the freedom of nudity, but Blair knew their time here was rapidly coming to a close, and he was going to have to get used to it all again. He smiled as he remembered how Naomi had resolutely refused to wear her bra after a month with a nudist group. She couldn't abide the constricting undergarment anymore. Blair could understand how she must have felt. 

The two men trudged out the back door and over to the pile of wood on the back deck of the cabin. The supply there didn't look much better than inside. 

"Think we should go out and gather a little more?" Blair asked, looking up at the nearby line of trees that marked the forest on the mountain. 

"Someone should be bringing out a new supply soon," Jim told his partner. "I don't think we need to risk going out to gather more. Looks like some of this needs splitting, though." 

"I think I saw an ax on the other side of the deck," Blair said, walking in the direction he had indicated to see if he was correct. "Yup. Here it is!" He held the ax aloft and shook it victoriously. 

"Just bring it here and let me get to work, Paul Bunyan," Jim teased, reaching out for the tool. 

"Ah, Jim --" Blair froze in the act of handing over the ax. 

"What?" Jim looked at his partner, and then turned slowly to look over his shoulder at what had captured Blair's complete attention. Standing a few yards away was a scrawny, hungry wolf. 

"Go away!" Blair shouted, making shooing motions with his hands. "Go on, get out! Go! Shoo!" 

"Blair..." Jim cautioned. "Hold still, Babe. He'll go away on his own. Let's not aggravate him." Slowly, he moved to stand between his lover and the animal. 

The wolf was obviously desperate -- ill or injured, it was no longer able to hunt and had been left behind by the pack. It snarled and moved a step closer, hunger driving it on. Jim began to back up into Blair, pushing his guide toward the door to the cabin. 

"Get inside," Jim ordered, giving Blair a slight shove. 

"Not unless you come with me!" Blair said, grabbing hold of Jim's arm and pulling. 

The wolf lunged and Blair's arm shot out around Jim's shoulder. "NO!" 

Jim watched with a mixture of dread and amazement as the wolf dropped in its tracks and toppled over into the snow. He turned around to see all the color drain from Blair's face. His guide's eyes were round with terror and he trembled from more than just the cold. 

Dropping to a crouch, Jim checked the animal and looked up at his partner, wonder sparkling in his eyes. "You didn't kill him, Chief. He's not dead; you just knocked him out." 

Blair was still trembling with shock as Jim reached out to gather him into his arms and hold him. Steering his guide back into the cabin, he quickly stripped Blair down and tucked him under the warm comforters of their bed. Perching on the edge of the mattress, he rubbed Blair's shoulder reassuringly. 

"I-I c-could h-have killed it!" Blair stammered, still shaking despite the warmth of the blankets. "If anyone ever finds out... God, I can't go back there, Jim! I _can't_!" 

"Nobody's going to make you go anywhere, Sweetheart. Remember, I promised you -- I'm never leaving you, or letting anyone take you from me." 

"But you won't be able to stop them; not when they find out that my power has returned!" For the first time since Jim had rescued him from the clutches of Alex Barnes, Blair felt the hot tracks of tears spill down his cheeks. 

Jim wiped the moisture away with a thumb and then leaned down to press a soft kiss against each eyelid. "But you didn't kill the wolf, Blair," he reminded his guide. "We'll practice, hone your skill, so that you never have to kill again." 

"But I don't know how I do it," Blair sniffled, wiping away the remaining tears. 

"It comes from in here," said Jim, thumping his chest over his heart. "You're an empath and a guide. It's your duty to protect your sentinel. When you fear for my life, you strike out with that fear, projecting it toward its source; like a psychic backlash." 

"T-That makes sense, I guess," Blair agreed, turning over to lie on his back. "Do you think we can learn to control it?" 

"I think _you_ can learn to control it," Jim corrected. "And we'll make it our secret weapon. No one will ever have to know except you and me." 

"Promise?" 

"Oh yeah, Babe." Jim leaned over to give Blair a kiss and found himself drawn deep into the passion of his guide. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"God, I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but it feels _good_ to be coming back to work!" The elevator doors opened and Jim stepped out ahead of Blair, leading his guide back into the bullpen for the first time in nearly three months. 

"Hey, Jim! Welcome back!" Joel Taggert got up from his desk to come over and greet the Sentinel Detective and his Guide. "Hi, Blair! How're you doing?" 

"Much better, Joel, thanks." Blair grinned at the large, black detective. Taggert had always had a soft spot for the rogue guide. Blair appreciated the open friendliness, considering the reception he got from others in the bullpen. Thank God at least Sheffield was no longer a problem. 

"Geez, Ellison! I thought when you came back you'd be sporting a _proper_ guide!" Sentinel Detective O'Brien elbowed his way through the gathering crowd, his pretty, female guide following a few steps behind on her leash. 

"Hi, Patty," Blair softly greeted the shy guide. The young woman allowed a brief smile to cross her lips before her sentinel wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her against his body. 

"First you pick a man," O'Brien said with disgust. "I don't understand that. What guy would rather put up with another cock when he could have pussy to fuck? And then you dress him and let him rattle his mouth off at every opportunity." 

"That's enough, O'Brien," Jim growled. "You'd be surprised how much more you could get from your guide, if you'd treat her with the respect she deserves." 

"Hell, if I didn't need a guide, I wouldn't bother putting up with one," replied O'Brien, completely ignoring the young woman at his side. "They're a damn nuisance and an extra expense coming out of my check. But what can you do?" 

"You could let Patty go back to nursing when she doesn't need to guide you," Blair suggested softly. "She's a talented humanitarian, and could bring in extra income if you'd let her." 

"I don't need a smart-mouthed guide telling _me_ what to do with _mine_ ," O'Brien spat, turning away from Blair. 

"Maybe you should listen to your betters, O'Brien," Jim said calmly. "He has a point." 

"Gentlemen..." Simon Banks stepped out of his office to greet his returning detective. "Let's leave this discussion for another time and another place. O'Brien, don't you have some work to do on the McMahon case?" Reluctantly, the detective turned away, giving one last derogatory glance toward Blair. "Jim, Blair, my office." 

"Good to see you again, Blair," Taggert said, patting the guide's shoulder. "Don't let bozos like O'Brien get to you." 

"I won't, Joel. Thanks." Blair smiled at his friend as he turned to follow Jim and the captain back into Simon's office. 

"What's up?" Jim asked as the door closed behind his guide and the two settled into chairs in front of Simon's desk. 

The captain shuffled through a pile of folders on his desk, selecting one and handing it to Jim. "There's been a series of mysterious fires in the past three weeks," Simon began. "First, it was a telephone pole, then a cell phone tower, and a small power substation. In all, there have been ten similar fires set. The ATF is working the case, but they requested a sentinel-guide team to assist. There's no indication yet that the fires are connected, but the agents seem to think there's a chance we have a serial arsonist on our hands -- possibly an eco-terrorist. You're the best team I've got. Feel up to working with the Feds?" 

"Do I have a choice?" Jim asked, looking up from the file he'd been studying. "You know how I feel about the Feds." 

"I could assign O'Brien," said Simon with a half-sigh, "but I'd rather send out you and Blair. You've worked with these people before." 

"Come on, Jim," Blair urged. "This will be a great test for how well we work together. I've gotta get some real field experience...." 

"Jim?" Simon cocked an eyebrow as he gave his detective a questioning look. 

"Yeah, yeah, all right, Simon; we'll take the case." Jim tossed the folder back onto Simon's desk. 

"Good, because I already told Agent Drennan that you'd be on it." 

"Drennan?" Jim asked, just as the door to Simon's office opened. 

"Hi, Jim. Good to see you again." ATF Special Agent Drennan walked in and extended her hand in greeting. "Hi, Blair." 

"Hey, hi! How are you?" Blair beamed a smile at the attractive woman. 

"Busy," Drennan said, turning toward Jim. "So, I take it we'll be working together again?" 

"Looks that way," Jim agreed, standing and pulling Blair up with him. 

"Good, because there's been another fire on Pacific Boulevard. I'm headed that way right now." Agent Drennan started out the door. "Coming?" she asked, looking back over her shoulder. 

Blair took the lead, pulling Jim along behind him. They grabbed their coats on the way out the door. "I'll take my truck; follow you over there," Jim said as they entered the elevator together. 

"Whatever suits you best," said Drennan as the doors slid shut. 

~oO0Oo~ 

They pulled up next to a cell phone tower in the Warehouse District. The metal tower had been unaffected by the blaze, but cables and wiring used to connect the various satellite dishes attached to the tower were blackened and fused. 

"Well, what do you think?" Drennan asked, getting out of her car. Jim and Blair were already out and looking up at the destruction. The fire crew was just finishing up and preparing to leave. 

Blair rested a hand on Jim's arm. "You can see the damage from here, just dial up sight." _I'm with you, my sentinel; your eyes are my eyes._

Jim concentrated on the lower burned cables, where the fire had apparently started. He sniffed the air, piggybacking his sense of smell onto sight. "There's no evidence of an accelerant," he said. "At least none that I can detect by scent. The chemicals used to put out the fire have most probably destroyed any fingerprints or residual DNA evidence. The damage isn't too extensive." He turned to the ATF agent. "We must have gotten here shortly after it was set." 

Drennan looked around. "Then our suspect could still be nearby," she said softly to the sentinel-guide team. "Maybe he likes to watch. He could be in the crowd." 

"Jim," Blair whispered. "Hearing?" _Listen for the heartbeat. Filter out mine, then Drennan's... that's right; good! Now the crowd; one by one, filter the normal heartbeats. Listen for the one that may be excited or frightened._

The sentinel turned his head, cocking an ear toward the crowd while still pretending to survey the damage done to the tower. "In the bystanders; ten o'clock -- the brown suede jacket with fleece lapels." Jim's voice was low, soft, so that only Blair and Drennan could hear. 

As one their heads turned toward the suspect. The man spooked and ran, ducking into a warehouse a half block down the street. Jim and Blair gave chase, with Agent Drennan on their heels. Inside the warehouse it was dim; the scent of dust and mold redolent in the air. 

Jim sneezed. 

A shot rang out. 

"No! Not again!" Blair spun on his heels facing the direction from which the shot had come, his arms outstretched toward the man with the gun. The suspect sank slowly to the ground, crumpling in a heap just under a nearby stairwell. 

Blair turned to Jim, who had a hand clamped over his left bicep. "Jim? Are you all right? Let me take a look at that." He pried Jim's hand away and dabbed at the blood with a handkerchief. 

"It's just a flesh wound, Chief," Jim assured him. "The guy is a lousy shot." 

Drennan stood up from her crouch over the body. "He's out cold," she announced. "He must have hit his head on something..." She looked back at the guide tending his sentinel and slowly shook her head. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"It all happened so fast, sir," Jim tried explaining to Simon as the captain stood next to the ambulance where his detective's wound was being treated. "He came out of nowhere --" 

"And shot you, then conveniently knocked himself out," Simon finished dryly. "What's the real story here, Jim?" 

"The real story is, we caught the arsonist who was starting all those tower fires," Drennan said, approaching the ambulance. "Once he woke up, he started babbling up a storm. I practically had to gag him in order to read him his Miranda rights." She chuckled. "I've never seen a perp so scared in my life. That's quite a team you have there, Captain. Don't question their methods, just congratulate their success." She turned to Jim and smiled. "Call me sometime and we'll do Italian together again. This time it'll be you with the gimp arm." 

"It's a date," said Jim, smiling at the Special Agent. 

Blair took Drennan's arm and steered her away from the ambulance. "Thanks for covering for us," he said softly. "You didn't have to do that." 

"It was obvious from the look in your eyes that you were terrified of what you'd done -- or at least of someone seeing you do it." Drennan spoke softly, her lips curving into a smile. "That's quite a talent you have, but I can see where it's not something you'd want widely known. I can keep a secret." 

"I trust you," Blair said sincerely. "I-I needed to protect Jim, keep him safe. That's part of my job as a guide." He stopped to take a deep breath, still trembling from the rush of adrenaline that was slowly draining from his system. "But guides... they aren't supposed to be able to do things like that." 

"You're special," Drennan said. "I always knew that. If you ever need an ally, you can count on me. Now, get back to your sentinel; Jim needs you." With a bounce and a wave, Blair jogged back over to the ambulance. 

~oO0Oo~ 

"You don't need to baby me," Jim fussed as Blair guided him through the door of the loft and toward the stairs to their bedroom. "It's just a flesh wound." 

"You think I don't know that?" Blair asked, keeping a hand on Jim's arm to steady him as they made their way upstairs. "But it's my job to make sure you get to bed in one piece. After a workout like this morning, we need to bond -- the sooner, the better." He guided Jim over to the bed and pressed him down onto the mattress. Kneeling in front of his lover, Blair began to unbutton the shirt, easing it off over the bandage on Jim's left arm. 

Sensitized by the nearness of his guide and his powerful need to bond, Jim leaned forward to capture the full lips in a searing kiss. Heedless of the pain in his arm, he gripped Blair's biceps and lifted his partner onto the bed, rolling on top to blanket the smaller man. 

Clothes flew in every direction with buttons popping and zippers torn open, until both men lay naked in the tangle of sheets. Dominating the bond, Jim pinned his guide to the bed, lapping his way down the exposed flesh like a large cat. Blair squirmed under the slippery, wet attention, crying out his need as Jim's mouth found his leaking cock and engulfed it in moist heat. The slick tongue twirled around the head and traced its way down the shaft. Blair bucked his hips, eager to drive his member deeper into his partner's throat. Jim took the extra length, sucking at the root of the shaft while Blair moaned and squirmed beneath him. 

With a cry of utter completion, Blair came down Jim's throat in shot after shot of hot semen, before collapsing in sheer exhaustion. Jim let the spent organ slip from between his lips as he rolled his lover over and spooned up behind him, piercing the relaxed body with his own hard cock. Blair moaned and pushed back against Jim's hips, taking all that his lover had to give him. 

/ join with me, my sentinel; let us be one, together / my guide, my protector, my love / you are my strength and focus, sentinel mine / and you are my support and guidance; without you I would founder in a sea of sensations / I love you, my sentinel / and I you, my guide / 

The sentinel's thrusts came hard and fast, pounding with bruising strength into the willing body. Buried to the hilt in the velvet softness, Jim came with a cry of Blair's name on his lips. Spooned together, joined both in body and in soul, the sentinel and guide found the final release of sleep. 

~oO0Oo~ 

Blair sat on the couch reading the newspaper and sipping a beer. "Man, that's just freaky," he said, laying the paper down on his lap and looking over at Jim who was busy in the kitchen. 

"What's 'freaky', Chief?" Jim asked, popping a cube of cooked chicken into his mouth as he prepared their dinner. 

"Well, it says here that they found the body of Michael Travers in the Snoqualmie National Forest, up near the cabin," Blair said, referring back to the paper. "He was naked and penned in a guide cage; the autopsy showed he died of exposure. He had been reported missing when he didn't show up at work five days ago. The really weird part is that he died with an erection and an oversized dildo up his ass." 

"Nothing more than he deserved for what he did to you," Jim replied calmly, tossing the cubed chicken into the casserole dish. 

"That's not the worst of it," Blair said. "This is the third mysterious death or disappearance of a Facility employee in the past ten days. Warden Cervinski disappeared a week and a half ago." Blair looked up from the paper to give Jim a suspicious glance. "He was also reported missing when he didn't show up for work, and no one has seen or heard anything from him since. It's like he disappeared off the face of the Earth. And then, two days ago, Doctor Weaver died of a heart attack in his office at the infirmary of the Facility. Don't you think that's all more than a little coincidental?" 

Jim shook his head. "Weirder things have been known to happen," he commented smoothly. "Better off without people like that, anyway. Good riddance." 

"Um, yeah," Blair said, giving the sentinel one last searching look. "Can't say I'm going to cry at their funerals." 

"Me either. You going to be ready to eat in a half hour?" Jim asked, slipping the casserole into the oven. 

"You bet! I'm starved," Blair said with a grin, folding the paper and laying it on the coffee table. Turning serious again for a moment, he returned his attention to his lover. "Jim?" 

"Yeah, Babe?" 

"You, um... you didn't have anything to do with those deaths, did you?" Blair got up and approached the kitchen island, pinning Jim with a look. 

Jim returned the gaze, knowing his guide could read the truth or lie in his eyes. "The military has a saying, 'Don't ask; don't tell.' Don't ask, Chief. That way I don't have to lie." 

Blair pursed his lips for a moment and nodded. Slowly, a grin spread across his face. "I love you, my sentinel." 

"Love you, too, my guide." 

_Continued in "Moira's Destiny"..._

* * *

End 

Moira's Curse by Natalie L: nat1228@comcast.net  
Author and story notes above.

Disclaimer: _The Sentinel_ is owned etc. by Pet Fly, Inc. These pages and the stories on them are not meant to infringe on, nor are they endorsed by, Pet Fly, Inc. and Paramount. 


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